When the night comes
The brain wakes up
The game begins
Betrayal, guilt, knock on the back door
Memories float from the past
The heart is crying
Fantasies, wishes are the script
And the eyes the director
A dream that keeps you up
When the time pass
All is an illusion an escape
Clouding the judgement of a player
YOU ARE READING
The touch of a soul
PoetryJust A poetry book Poetry comes from the highest happiness or the deepest sorrow. -A.P.J Abdul Kalam
