In the  golden times of his age,  no one ever sought a way more beautiful,
Because no one taught them that their path,
Was different.
Days,months ,years were all full of unexpected happenings.
Besides we were all born the same way.

He woke up , dashed through life just like his elders.
Laid in the midst of a beautiful middle sun,
He watched his skin dry, with no earning for his hardwork
Besides life is for living

Just a walk home, he rushed his memory through,
A series of his lineage and realised it was a whole
Miserable pattern of dreams shuttered.
Running for a ward or two , he paced to his next neighbour

Just to see if , thoughts could match into a hope.
He lost it all, because neither did they understand his feeling.
He changed direction, and sought for rescue in this unknown land.

Just like heavy pours through a stream, he has never looked
Back, because his dream was his own.
Running at a faster rate, he wishes all the sunrises  would remain to replace the dead ones ,that left him poor.
Today, he is on a strange path,  which only him can relate to,

Because dreams don't have shadows, you either walk with them or remain together with no one leading.