A pen in my right hand
as I dive in the imaginary land
finding myself by the calm sea
here no one troubles me.
The mountain peak cheers me
wonder it is that I am not me.
sometimes bold, standing my ground.
Sometimes I cannot be found.
Hiding my reality with a mask
pretension is such a tedious task.
books are better than drugs,
I agree yearning for fictional hugs.
I turn the page with excitement,
never knew it would bring disappointment.
drastic changes in my expressions
as I rush through different impressions.
And I stay still by the wall.
Books are not suitable in the hall,
I have a secret room for them.
as I look for my soul in them.
I live the life of the characters,
considering all the factors
as I fall in love with those pages
that have been with me from ages.