There came a point when dreams no longer were best friends of the night;The reasons were obscure and overtly out of sight.
Some thoughts did push the tunnels of callousness and some embraced the judgement errors,
But none of that made any sense and neither did they breathe in terror.
Strangely, dreams smiled, distanced from the night,
At times, points are drawn in, deliberately, even at the risk of stopping the only glimpse of glowing light.
Perhaps it’s best to have known and left, perhaps it’s not,
Perhaps it’s easy to keep ends loosely tied and let a dream seep in through a sliced night,
Perhaps it’s this and perhaps it’s that,
Reasons could be enumerated through every rational fact,
Guess the onus would still live in with dreams because somewhere the deepest desire and want to be, had been brutally killed.