Gone dreaming

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I hear Mother Nature’s loud footsteps
Walking up to her lovely son

She, with her soft hands caresses his bold head
Sending him into a feel of relaxation.
The chill soon sweeps him off to a world…
A land, so divided from the ordinary
A world where all could be heroes
And all could be villains
A world where a lunatic sits in a throne,
Judging not fellow lunatics but men of brains

In scattered templates of imagery
In the faintest of vision
In the realest of reality
A world lovable or detestable thus
A world that you soon won’t love to lose

But soon, comes a slight tap
Onto the sense of stupidity
And out we come,
Wishing to have stayed some more time
Wishing we could own that world, just another time!

Looking upon the past,
So many toys have I lost
And castles so vast
But all seems a ghost
In my nude mind, they came and clothed me in garments so noble
Escaping from this…
This world I am used to
This world of lies
This world of presumptions
This world of color
And facts of lies:
The world of dreams.

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