own

Travelling between

the thin line of

reality and fantasy,

looking for an emerald

that resides in me,

I stumble through distant paths

get burnt by dragon’s tongues,

I climb the mountains

to see no sun

but be struck by lightning

in search of something

that is nowhere

but inside me,

I dwell in darkness

feast on my own dead skin,

split open my eyes,

looking for that island

where I think the stone is;

fantasy becomes reality

when I last return home,

and find some drops

falling down my open eyes,

they glint with a distinct sheen,

and I realize,

they are the dear stones,

I was looking for,

in the realm of fantasy,

all the time,

them being overlooked

by my heart,

but present

in my own reality.

HA's Place