In the complex molecules of our brain cells

All this ado about the anatomy and structure

There is something unseen

Something that scientist can’t measure

It lies within the piece of literature we read

It breathes through the beauty of the Amazons we visit

It doesn’t have a name

It is the dream that I secretly dream

Silently and alone

At night when it’s deadly quiet

When the shooting stars sparks and falls

A dream to become

An Artist
A Writer
A Traveller
A Journalist
A Dreamer