I'm interested in doing all kinds of writing and songwriting. While I am focused on writing short-form music at the moment, I thought it would be a great challenge to write the script for an opera after I noticed Neil Gaiman Tweet about this project where people submit opera scripts for consideration. Learn more at: Here's my working script for the challenge! 

"No Return"

by Simeon Peebler

based on Neil Gaiman's The Sweeper of Dreams



A man stumbles upon a stranger in his yard; the confrontation leads to a major turning point.




I am the sweeper

The sweeper of dreams

I am the one who

cleans up everything 

I say very little and avoid all the chatter

I brush away what used to matter

I am the one just out of view

collecting orphaned hopes that have come to hate you

I know everything you are is what you left behind



Who is this stranger just out of clear view?

Carrying a broom big enough to knock little children into the road If he doesn't notice them walk by

as he swings it up high

sweeping with ferocity



I am the sweeper

The sweeper of dreams



Excuse me, sir, I mean you no ill will

but why are you in my yard?



I made this cigarette and drew my own tattoo

I make everything I need so I don't have to ask you

As you sleep, I take away what's left behind

I take away what you left collecting dust

I am the sweeper

I am the sweeper

I am the sweeper cleaning up what will pass

I am the sweeper of all this mess

from your dreams



But what of the kingdoms and castles

and angels and owls

mountains and oceans, and all the vibrant things

I just created, in my mind, while I slept, just minutes ago?



I will not answer your questions about such things

There are those I no longer visit and you'e probably heard their screams

They have mouths that twitch

and eyes that stare

And walk in ragged clothes, or hide in the desolate places

They live in the wreckage of dreams

I will never return there

I am the sweeper

The sweeper of living dreams



Do you take my nightmares too? And all the things I feared true

The sharp-tooth hag biting my face

The broken arm emerging from the end of the tub

The worms that crawled from my chest when I tore off my shirt

If those remained I would certainly be, quite definitely, out of my mind



I clean the stage

I remove the set

I clean out dark corners most forget

I am the sweeper

I am the sweeper of dreams



But not for us all?



Don't press your luck

I clean the stage

I remove the set

I clean out dark corners your kind prefer to forget

I leave no stone unturned in places unsettled

I may be leaving you soon, if you don't turn away now



I will turn around

But my eyes will impossibly follow your every move

Through the back of my head

Straight through my brain



Then I will say bye without saying much more

And the sweet peace of past ignorance

will forever chase you to the ends of your days

The sweeper leaves now



Come back!

Don't leave!

I need my...

Sweeper of Dreams?


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