"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 which 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"