The world is a garden,
full of flowers, blossoming from dreams each morning.
I sleep at night thinking of my existence,
and I wake up to greet the beauty of this big world,
as there are always new flowers to find.
In the cycle of nature,
the stars fall from the sky, and leave an empty spot.
Only to be filled by a new luminance,
that carefully finds a way,
out of the work I do daily.
Somedays, it would just be reading newspapers,
at some moments, it is playing the piano.
At last,
I sketch the idea to complete myself.
and remind me, there is still a lot to search.
The universe has formed to only a fraction yesterday,
there may be something new added the next day,
maybe,
a new country would drop from the sky?
who knows, I can dream whatever I wish.
for youth always stays be my side,
and I never feel lonely with it,
I walk along the deserts and valleys looking for clues.
At times,
I find papers covered in dust that indicate,
an old city lies in remains under my feet.
I exclaim, feel happy, and feel proud
that I live in a world with humanitarian heritage.
A world, where, in every city and village,
there are stories of people who get ahead with courage.
So I wish that I could see everything,
explore every bit of this world in dreams to feel satisfied,
but...
I keep forgetting that...
The world is a garden,
full of flowers, blossoming from dreams each morning.
I can never see everything,
as every day, there will be new flowers to find.
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: ̗̀➛ Poetry: A Journey
Poetry↳ ❝ And I realise that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought, or in this endless universe of stars and mountains, it's all in my mind ¡! ❞ ·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ Poetry is an art that can touch the soul the same as music or even a...
