Fresh air is coming through the window. You are half- sleep barely realizing all sacred circumstances encroaching your senses. Succumbing your chin into the edges of your sharp knees, violently pressing down, more and more, your joints are hopelessly screaming, you are ful of dreams. You, one pure figurine on a battlefield of your own fatigue, you come and go, and go further exploring kingdom of the heavenly dreams. As an outrageous snowflake, relentlessly dancing through the sunbeams, in a portrait of my imagination, I am swinging on the ropes of your dreams.
I am sneaking in, sensing the cruelty and non-chalance, discovering...I am far away from being a part of them.