They tell me that the world
is the dream of a butterfly.
And once they wake
we will cease to be.
In this cage I dream,
dream of butterflies.
Creatures that can fly
higher than I ever could.
But when I wake, the dream
disappears with them.
So what is real
and who is the fake?
Me, who dreams to fly,
fly with butterflies?
Or the butterfly?
Whose nightmare
is being me.
