Amidst the bed of petals
and dancing beams netted on ripples,
embellished with beads were the paper boats.
The day light moon sneaks through
shades of misty rose adoring
every touch of zephyr.

Whilst beauty pours from nature’s brink,
and shelters fill without a blink,
I see faces.

Somewhere between nightmares and sleep,
somewhere between smiles and lines,
somewhere between blue and red.

From losing present to building past,
illusions would be forever.

Do I not belong to them?