Antidote

59 | dreamlike fantasy

I used to build houses in golden pine trees

like an innocent kid longing for fun and bliss

but in a decade of moments came the tragedy

and washed out each memory.

By an unanticipated outpour of tumultuous tears

the life I had in tree houses away from doubts and fears

was disastrously inundated

lifeless it was; like a desert so barren, dry and arid

there I found myself terribly living in reality

like an animal ensnared in a cage wanting to be freed

and that was the ending of my own dreamlike fantasy.