A wreath on my dreams
My dreams are dead like a silent street
Silence of dream;daunting my heart
On those days i thought my dreams
.Will bloom like a bouquet of flowers.
But now i am rowing in the vast ocean
of my lifeless,worthless dead dreams.
Now i realize what dreams are;it is
that which makes man to stand at the
-verge of death
Dreams are like a flower as it blooms like
a bird kid and show their heavinly pride but
they didnt think that they have to die,Someday
Likewise dreams are like a worthless bunch
of waste having ,no mercy on human.
Nones dream come to an end pridely as they
Are like human wish,human wish hopes
for a rain to its dry heart,but when the
rain falls down it never stops
Now if anyone asks me "what is your great dream?"
I will answer "it is that i wouldnt like to have
-any dream"!
My answer may hurt the narrators soul
but my soul know what will be end of
-a dream.
And i also know that my dream that is the condition of
Not having any dream is also a dream that will not get
-fullfilled
In the past,present or future.
As i am a human,a son of almighty should have to bear
The fate drown in the POISONOUS lake of dreams.
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