Waking up to another dreamless night,
i feel my imagination slowly loosing its focus on beauty.
For what beauty is there to it?
Being asleep is basically being half dead,
if my subconscious chooses to abandon my desire to fantasize about my beloved,
then i fail to see the pleasure i once found in it.
i feel my imagination slowly loosing its focus on beauty.
For what beauty is there to it?
Being asleep is basically being half dead,
if my subconscious chooses to abandon my desire to fantasize about my beloved,
then i fail to see the pleasure i once found in it.
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