I often have a dream,
A dream where I am falling.
I hear a faint sound,
As if someone is calling.
Is it something I did,
Or just a figment of imagination.
Is it just a dream,
Or my inner desperation
One day I did not wake up,
To see who was calling
I tried to hear him,
To know what was he telling.
The boy who was calling,
Was none but me, young though.
My face looked so much in peace,
It was me years ago.
The dream never ended,
And I kept falling.
I never came to know the boy,
Or what was he telling.
I kept having that dream,
A dream where I was falling.
© Copyright 2019 murtuza. All rights reserved.
Comments
Good poem. Most of the time, we keep running after shadows thinking they are our own reflections without realizing what we are searching for was never lost.
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Reply
u r rght :)
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