When the danger starts to rise I take solace in the dream.

I picture his arms wrapped protectively around me, I imagine we are on our own little world, far away from harm.

When I hear the witch's cackle I shutter and shake it off, instead imagining his blades surround her, threaten her until she backs away.

I know when the danger closes in, myself he will abandon. After all, he is not real.

But I don't care for I can ne'er forget to trust in truth and reality.

Despite all that I need his comfort, I cherish this fantasy.

I love the dream.

When the fear sinks in I'm with him in a cave, hiding from the darkness.

Despite the howling winds the both of us are warm.

Although I know that my soul he truly cannot protect, I still pretend it is that way.

The witches can curse me. My enemies can silently come near.

My God will protect me, and the dream will keep me sane. 

So as I hide from all this terror, I find solace in the thought of his face.

I can all but feel his warm embrace when all the world's gone cold.

He is my dream, and every night I thank my father above for giving me the strength to dream my dream.