Her Desire

A silent call

I'm tired, but I'll keep working. I'm exhausted but I'll stay motivated. I'll stumble but I'll stand back up quickly. Where is the promised reward for my efforts? What is the paradox of my existence?

I feel like a prey, I feel like praying. Should I believe in divine order?
A part of me doesn't know whether I'm weak or just indifferent. I don't want to fight demons or kill my desires.
Perhaps I'll show the world that a sensitive and forgetful being like myself can guarantee their own path to success. I'm no stranger to my heart, I let myself be controlled just to forget the enduring feeling of emptiness.

For what reason do we dream? Is the reason we dream because we cling to the hopes of waking up from it or is it because dreams offer us an illusion of happiness?
I don't want to dive deep into the pool of sweet bubbly dreams. Take my hand and I'll guide you through the miracles of an illusionary path. Everything's sunny but the sunshine hides the nightmares. Only when you stand in front of it can you cast a shadow of the truth behind the meaning of light.

If we were who we assumed to be there would no longer be any successes. We often dream of becoming someone we aren't hence we start to depend on fake realities.
The waking call of a bird's chirp could destabilize the foundation of a perfectly built dream. A well constructed barrier could easily crumble from the exterior but be unbreakable from the inside. It only takes one small anomaly in the dream for us to become completely conscious of our state. Therefore the particularity of desires can be dissociated from happiness like a fragile shard of glass among million others that could never amount to anything because its pieces are too small to be used. Even once assembled they could never replicate the value of the original beauty.