The complexity, Melancholy.
My life, A fantasy.
My world, imagination.
My time, not reality.
In an universe, far far away.
My thoughts, in the way.
Freedom, from nature.
From world, from hature.
The world, Paradoxial.
The brain, doesn't exist.
The mind, behind.
Controling, the veins.
Stop, said the world.
You have gone too deep.
You need to get out,
Or you will be lost in it's sleep.
But, it feels, like heaven.
On this very small earth.
Went deep, inside,
Knowing very well it's worth.
In a place, free of cost.
Free of will, free of despair.
There's nothing in my heart,
In my soul, to repair.
But the paradox, Remains.
What is indeed real.
Is it me? My world?
Or the place where I feel?
I need to stop.
Please show me a way.
To control, my brain.
Control my very space.
Please help me out.
Out of this place.
So full, of riddles.
A very very big maze.
Once, I learn control.
I can figure out what to do.
What to think, what to search.
Finally figure out the truth
