Each night near the window pane,
In the harmony of air..
With the presence of past,coated with future of present..
The clock ticks away..
Year passes in seconds..moments sunk forever..
The end is nowhere..
The action causes unrealistic motion..
With the laws consent of emotions..
The persistence of dreams..
Is the simulation of chain reaction..
The fall in the gravity..
With the hill of darkness..
The retardation of blood and the breath in harness..
The stage far beyond horizon,
Mixed with nectar and poison..
The glimpse of reality…
By living the life of virtualization..
The existence of him..
Is the realization of image..
With the shadow in hand..binding in self cage..
That window pane..is the entrance for painless plane..
I was born naive..and now converted to insane..
Photo credit: B.Riordan. on VisualHunt / CC BY