I pick myself from the dusty
blankets of blue
Patterned across a surface
that's old and yet new.
My thoughts widen and
ridden against the dizziness of my sleep
I wish I was at at place
somewhat nearer to a heaven
dream
The moonlight is dark and yet fancy.
My thoughts are a
spiral going back and forth
unable to find the meaning to it's poetry.
At 3 am, I look up at the sky
see a Ferris wheel, at a village close by
At 3 am, I see somethings left unoticed, and words unsaid.
At 3 am, imdifferent person in a different universe
