To settle down somewhere,
Beneath the glow of the crescent moon,
Where nothing but darkness prevails.
Where I and my solitary are hinged together,
The echos of ground wouldn't perforate my thoughts,
The lurid character, only visible to me-
Preserved for me.
The crooked branches wouldn't point towards me,
Their menace evaporating before reaching us.
Only in-ear, they would sometimes buzz,
Restating their vile self.

But, I dream far beyond the horizon- and I see,
A pristine place left for me.