In the subliminal realm, of the darkest lucid dream
There's a way to escape, lit by a lighthouse beam
A beguiling beacon luring to an alternative land
From ocean, to shore, as was always planned
An oneironaut is in control, destiny's master
A conjurer, a seer, and a paradisian pastor
For this is the way, of the ultimate cause
To hide away, from mortality's, claws
But a woven dream is an empty sail
And Athanasia is the unholy grail
For like moths to fire, it is said
The only way is dead ahead
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