A little miracle is all I need,
A real dream is all I breathe.
I hear a perpetual knock on my door.
The sounds of chime doesnt depend on air.
The lines get blurred and I delete them often.
Even then they come back at many times.
A deep sleep is broken by harsh silences.
I get up and pretend to walk in my sleep.
I put my words on paper,
and see them all in front of my eyes.
I soon know about your ignorance,
when you burn them alive.
The words look sombre and listless,
even they need a miracle to fly.