I’ve lost myself in those perfumed dreams I wove long back.
In my insecurities, I’ve kept you waiting, muffled in the fog of my paranoia parched in my penance.

Since you are here,
I want to look at you, I want to know if you are real,
I want to know if the way my demons soar in the wilderness, is the same way yours do.
I want to whisper those words wrapped in the debris of my withered wishes.
I want to know if you are really the one, who would bring me back to this show of sobriety,
however bleak this world be, it’s real.

The only way out of this system of levers of lullabies laced with lust, gears of guilt, is the way I often take strolls on,
But Not since you started to seem a little more real,

And after so long when you are finally here,
I want to look at you,
I want to lure those demons you sing to often,

I won’t be perfect, I can’t.
But I’d keep chasing horizons to be one.
After all, it’s not a dream if it’s not unreal.
It’s the joy to chase the unreal, that has kept me alive.

And as someone said,
“The day you stop running will be the day that you arrive.”

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