In the quietest part of the night,
When you hover between dark and light,
Wondering if you can float away on dreams,
Hoping they won't turn into screams.
What seemed as a goal has been spiralling downstream.

Into the ever green, the "So called
world of milk and honey "
Just when you stay flout into the simmer of dusk and dawn
Wondering if your own dreams will keep you live if life won't be telling you no lie ,

So I've been told" you are useless",
Shifting my mind to truculence,
Which has brainwashed my...