I found the answer in words spoken by the mute.
They throw madras but the mantras don’t debut.  
I sleep but my mind is still awake, this vibration I feel takes my spirit out of place.
This world I’m in isn’t meant to be seen, these questions I have aren’t meant for the keen.
These nights are followed by reading this one book.
I’ve imprinted its sentences to keep my mind hooked.
I’m pulled back into a world that’s fallen from grace.
Waisting words to the def keep me out of this place.
After all this one question goes unseen.
Why am I still awake in my own dream?