The night sky opens and my dreams come alive,
Born from deep inside my conscience, and raised to lie, sometimes I just wish my imagination could live, and this reality would die.
From my head to my soles, I yearn to let go, and float on senses that only I can clutch, my head's full of pressure, and it needs an opening for these unscripted thoughts to rush.
Imagination fades and dreams get crushed, but so does everything else...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem