My inability
to see clear reality
was caused by the soothing
comfort injected upon me
from the world of fantasizing
in the curtain of wishes,
so i tell my self:
For my mind likes to assume
that i’m a weakling.
Dreams are tougher than soft pillows
filled with pink petals and clovers
tickling like feathers
as my fantasies
transformed before my eyes,
so we soar high together
until i saw their emptiness
and hear the sound of the bell ringing.
My dream flew like the wind
but with hands stretching out to be set free,
so i beckoned and reckoned;
don’t go!
–in echoed an whisper…
As i woke up to the year of realization.