A syringe deep within,
She rests upon the shoulder,
Maybe just a dream,
She is a living being, I believe,
People say she’s just a stream,
A dream waking near a meadow,
She has been nothing to me,
I have nothing more to see,
She’s just a dream,
Like a syringe deep within,
People say she doesn’t exist,
Just a figment of my insecure mind,
Mere definition of my existence,
Maybe she never existed for me,
Maybe she has been a fume of air,
Which whispers in the air,
She has been an underlining stream,
In my ever flowing life,
She has been the calm tides of the sea,
Like a syringe deep within,
People say she’s just a feeling,
Only felt, can’t be touched,
By an unworthy human being, like me,
I’m not a worthy soul mate for her,
My soul fades in front of thee,
She is the day and the night,
And the light in every blind man’s dream,
My life has been colorless all this time,
She has been the source of serenity,
Of that mild extinguished breeze,
That once existed, felt, sensed,
By each and every human being,
She is the girl of my dreams,
A syringe penetrates deep within,
Rehabilitation for the mere existence,
Of her,
Maybe she is, maybe she is not,
A syringe left deep within,
People say she’s just a dream,
Maybe I’m a dreamer,
Maybe she existed just for me,
I’m just a believer, of love,
Of she being there for me.
