Is where my future feeds on my fantasies.
A haven where I live among my dreams.
I prosper in this peace.
My dread dissolves
And all the vivid details of vanity, vanishes,
Leaving only a lull of beauty.
This night time
Is my time,
To live, to live, to live…
And be beautiful, without the masks
That lay upon our skins.
The hardest part about writing poetry,
is trying not to write like everyone else.