They said that nightmares are not real.
But, what If I say that wasn’t the actual truth of this unseen ideal.
If I wrote to you stating mine was the act of reliving of the unspoken, but be still.
Words from my lips is now unsealed of this sense of surreal.
Dreaming once, twice, but three times of my soul bursting into flames.
Yet, I soon to be known this was the curse of dealing with these games.
Dreaming once, twice, but three times of the fear of uncontentment from past days.
Where I thought that the happiest moments were not a part of presence where I could just stayed awake and wouldn’t have to feel this way.
Dreaming once, twice, but three times of discouragement from my families and burdens, yet it felt like it’ll never been okay even if I say it my time to own it my way and take care of my heart always.
Dreaming that felt like once, twice, but three times have feel like my days are over...But, as soon that I am awake. It’s more if I’m okay now?
When I take my bow on that stage of fears, I can now say it life with tears or life with too little cares.
As I wish on those stars, I wish and I wish for the stories that can’t seems to be near or even close to hear because without it here it nothing but mere of a dream that can’t face the where.
