I survived a fever dream

Where everything was perfect

Beyond human comprehension at times

It felt like an unknown yet familiar world

Where the only valid sin was to wake up

And nothing bothered my lefts to rights

It was vivid with colours brighter than life

And people unbothered by past baggages

It was a .. Happy place indeed

Yet unreal.

And what pulled the curtain

Wasn't the surrealism of it

But the superficiality in the living

Because even without all the means,

We're all still humans,

A little Thoreau-ized,

I recall

Sitting quietly

Infront of a misty demeanoured sky

Where only a lone tree caught my eye

Mysterious, so intrigued

It had me dissociate from reality

But only for a moment

Until the wind decided to intervene

And break our connection of a lifetime

But still

With a blank canvas surrounding it

Only the lonely tree felt constant, eternal

Maybe magical too

Its lonliness was enchanting

Bearing the ability to create

Upholding its pride even in the

Merciless, Deceding skies.

And afterall

In my mind I knew

Maybe I

Was the tree

Just ready to tell someone

All my dark and light stories

Robert Frost said :

" Two roads diverged in the woods

And I ,

I took the one less travelled by

And that has made all the difference "

Now I want you to find your own walk right now.

For only it knows what it carries

The sound of a child's giggle

Or that cold breath of longing

Maybe a foreign bird's feather

And some sand from a desert

Let me have a little of everyone, everything

And that will be my last wish

To be complete like no other

Who will be for me ?

And if I'm not for others,

Who am I ?

And if not now, When ?"