Where is the air to rest our nose on,
Is it there where I’ll go easy on the dink of life?
An internal look is essential to fill this blank paper,
Or else with these breaths I’ve, I’ll be nothing.
To sleep would a mistake less acceptable,
More will be abiding by the hidden rules of the world.
There I’ll walk and stop at the top,
And will see a time going by my side.
Pleasure if I’ll be mine and I write what I want,
To fill this idea of break free, let it not!
Of chances will never come again to smile,
And get smile for your great work done again!
Beginning from if I go, somewhere I please,
And keep on going and creating distance,
Till I won’t know what will be therein to happen,
Till I lose a heart so weak of mine,
A time rotten with ample of shine,
A little step ahead to where I’ll end,
Or a buffer pushing to look for more,
I’ll not know what will happen.
And that will be the beauty of it.
But what to know and what to hear,
You don’t but I see,
I’m still sleeping.
