Friday, 13 January 2012


This heart is like a bird, flies in the sky
To get some reality of dreams, in a hope to a fly
But dreams are dreams, never be mine
With open eyes I glimpse them as neither I am of them nor they are mine
Why did I love them, and why did I cry
I did hold them, they all had gone, they all said lie
I shouted and I screamed,
 It lost its identity and its mean, at last my heart died
 It asked me many questions, but I never replied
I never slept, I never fly, and I never see me
I left myself, left you and I left to see dreams

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