Many know of their suffering
Only some knows to what extent
A few cared
But to help? No one dared.

This is a story of her and him,
Where they lived
Freedom is just but a FANTASY.

Her heart was aching,
the pain flowing through her veins,
reaching to the very tips of her body,
sinking deeper to her bones.

Though she was hurting
she could not dare let the tears flow
‘coz where she lives
only the free birds were allowed to cry.


When it’s raining he celebrates
he goes outside, to be drenched
he looks at the sky,
to  feel the rain drops on his face.

Only then his tears can flow
When the heavens have allowed him to conceal those tears
For where he lives
one can only cry in the rain.

For where they live, one can only dream for a split-second
getting lost in their wonderful dreams cost a lot

To dream a split-second more could cost your life

So they whisper their dreams to the wind,
hoping it would reach to the other side of the mountains

They pass their dreams to the birds,
hoping they could fly across the borders

They pray to the dark clouds to carry their dreams,
hoping when it decides to pour those drops of rain, it would be on that place.
To let the rain pour along with their dreams .
Let it pour anywhere but their home.

For where they live, dreaming is not for free.
So they can only hope that they dreams are carried to that place.
The place past those concrete walls,
to the other side of the mountains,
to the land where their dreams could be free.


I have heard the wind,
The birds have reached me
I saw the rain pour,
along with their dreams

Now I carry it
So I dream for me,
I dream for her,
I dream for him
And I thank the heavens.

I thank them, for where I LIVE one could dream for FREE.