The Universe Soul of SHE Pt. 1

Am I dreaming?
Was the last tune I played so heavenly that I drifted off to an Outerspace Estate?
If so, waking up will be a mistake
Essays written by various keys
Documentation of the actual versions of me
Through unorganized sound
Hopeful that you define me as beyond the term profound
Something hand written
Categorized as something a bit different
But the question remains: Am I dreaming?
Is it the format or 'SHE' who is singing?
A note
Full of literary quotes
From an ungraduated Professor
But also a successor
To scream your name from the rooftops
And never think about the word "stop"
Yet every document has to end
The same way that it begins
With a dream....



Am I honestly a professor? Or Am I a musician?

White Dress

When you burn your candle at both ends,
That is something that neither you or I can mend.
So the piano speaks to the universe and universe soul,
Written statements in bold.
Rehearsed font and expressions,
Without a single lesson.
Enhancing construction sight.
The concept of crafting the perfect night,
Dedicated to the truth.
An artifact as ancient as a telephone booth.
In the mist of ivory and ebony keys,
An apology through simplified melodies.
Caught in Novembers' spell,
Mentality is currently spinning on a carousel.
Lines of confusion
Thoughts of pointless temptation
The meaning behind the "White Dress"
Is the result of momentary stress.....

Imaginary Pianist (Not Autumn)

^ maybe SHE will remember these clouds I gave her some time ago