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There are things that doesn't let me sleep, 
keeping my eyes glued to the ceiling and my conscience puzzling.
What purpose does my existence carry?
What destination does my soul belong to?
In this world full of illusions, i wonder, do i even belong here?
Even when I breath, my heart aches,
thinking was I supposed to merely survive
or to live with the moon, mountains and rain.

Wasn't I supposed to be a God's child?
A child running through the fields of sunflowers
chasing the butterflies, catching the fireflies 
and talking to that tall, old green pine,
after a long day of climbing and stealing raspberries 
how badly does it hurt my spine.
Gazing the constellations, wasn't i supposed to tell the moon
what beautiful emerald fabric with roses all over has my mother worn.
Walking down the bridge, wasn't i supposed to come through a clear crystal lake,
staring down at those tiny rabbits burrowing beneath the mountains,
what exquisite view does that orchid touching the rainbow make.

Soon the cycle of nature turns again, 
after a violent clashing thunder, gentle snow follows the rain.
The sun starts to set early, the sunflowers stop to bloom
as i rush back to my withered cottage, the rabbits begin to vanish,
once a clear crystal lake, becomes a pithole of rubbish.
The closer i get, the farther my cottage steps back, as i turn around
i see the whole world collapsing, pushing me out of my delusion.

The same room where i have spent my entire childhood,
the same walls laughing at me behind their magenta hood.
"We're merely bricks, tombed till the end of our lives,
for our purpose has always been to serve the minions like you
but daren't you think yourself any less than a kite,
born to ace the heights of the sky 
for which you must cut the threads limiting your flight.
As initially even a little hawk is scared to leave behind it's tree
but to understand the purpose of it's own existence, one must set itself free."
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