Maan > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

I'm trying to figure this question in my head for so long but this is what I've got

I'm confused about everything that exist and that doesn't.

You came to me when you were more important than the beating heart.

Does she even know that I'm still alive?

She's beautiful like a morning or like a sober night breeze.

The life they have given is nothing more than a charity.

A person became a question and then a mystery, A madman.

Every night it seems to be another end, but in real that's just other dream.

Looking for you, to hold my hand so that I can take you back where you belong.

Chasing an unknown dream, like chasing a stranger, like chasing for my own shadow.