Golden treasures I contain,
Guarded by hundreds and thousands.
Stored in a labyrinth where no man walks,
Yet men often come to seize my gold.
By smoke, I am overcome and robbed,
Then left to build my treasure anew.
You have no control over me,
I am not real, though sometimes you believe me,
I come back every night, but am often forgotten,
Though left alone, I will never become rotten,
Sometimes I remind you of things yet to come,
Sometimes, watching me, you do things you’ve never done,
I rarely ever turn out to be true,
Now I am done with this riddle for you.