My World Is My Dream And Never A Reality To Turn Fake

Veracity is a dream when I see something beyond my imagination. It looks like whirlpool of emotions stretching and swirling out before me. I see the deep red hood forests covered with pink flowers. I see the birds singing harmoniously on the golden branches. When they sing a golden air comes out of their beaks and forms a pattern of a little fairy that flies away in the airy land.

Just when I walk ahead carefully avoiding crushing little poppies under my legs I hear than see whistling of waters nearby. I cannot contain my elation when I see heavenly blue water stream running across the bank. It is so crystalline clear that I am afraid if I touch it will be black. I reach around just in time to discover a littler of silver nymphs and fairies dancing around the gushing waters. I watch them mesmerised just as a yellow and blue colour bird flies over me and whispers something in the fairy's ears. Before I know it, she looks at me, and smiles.

Oh! What beautiful teeth! I can see little pearls embedded in them. There were others having bright flowers on their head and dancing along the beautiful rhythm of the golden harps. The whole atmosphere was filled with music, jingling songs and little feet and wings that were swaying in the air.

I was not afraid of them and walked towards them with a laughing face. I was so eager to join them. I started to dance as one of the little nymphs wearing a pink and red gown beckoned to dance with her. It was like dancing with the wind. Behind the atmosphere, I saw the heart-shaped mountains turning pink in the dusk light. They looked like a beating heart in love. The birds were slowly going to their nests flying over the valleys and hills covered with crimson snow. The leaves were slowly closing their stems and the flora their eyelids.

The fairies continued to dance until it was time to leave. The mighty eagle rang the bell of night and each one was supposed to go to bed. Guardians of the night the sweet little glow-worms beckoned my way back to the village. I saw the last bird chirping gently to lull her little ones to the sleep. The forest was star-studded and trees were filled with birds and fruits. The harps went underground and closed the earth with their strings. I took a little white water in my hands and drank it to inhale the tranquillity and happiness of the aftermath. The stream was as if gliding my way to welcome me back the next day.

I was more than ready to go.

When the world tires, I am longing to go to that forest where there are immortal beings surrounding my soul and my body. They welcome me in their arms and I engulf their love and their spirit. I love my dreams because they are not fake. I love myself in them because I am Real.

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