"A tale of goals and my dreams. Success stories bustling in ears with auctions Of meaningful quotes stumbling to make some meanings; Dreams of success, of coarse everyone wish to see; But maybe no one wants to work on, I worked, maybe outworked against the last me, Who can't handle, all that I'm holding on; Love and hate, nothing I try to know about it, 'Grow and grow' is all I wish to read; Old dusty books masked with writer's blood and sweat; Catchy quotes catching eyes like fishes inside a net. Flying colours in the darkest rooms from the only black and white coloured books. I see 'my dreams' through them; Dreams which I know, eventually won't even last For more than that passing night. Running in the meadows of dreamt success, Drifting through relations with no single grudges, I live there, there in my own place Where I don't need to be a part of any rat race Till the sunrise to mock my closed eyes And I being left out in great suspense of a journey -- trying to make some sense. . ©Edm[a]nd "