Holding on to the black minute hand,
Of a giant white clock.
Until I can hang on no longer,
When the clock strikes thirty.
A long fall,
But a soft landing,
A carpeted bridge.
On the far end sits,
An old snake charmer.
The bridge is flat,
Much like the Earth.
Under it hang seven chandeliers,
That light the elegant ball below,
Puppets immaculately dressed.
I wear shabby clothes,
I'm ashamed.
'Be aware',
I hear from the corner of my ear.
I look around and finally up.
There is no roof,
Only a clear sky,
With a moon,
Full and bright.
The snake charmer's eyes are round and bright.
The snake charmer's snake,
Slithers towards me.
I grab it by it's tail,
And throw it to the moon,
Where it circles itself around a crater.
It bites it's tail.
An apple falls on my head.
I need to fly,
Fly to the moon.
I look around.
I spot the charmer,
I kill him.
I lift his basket.
I find a pair of wings,
I fly.
