I want to die while sleeping.

The world is real, with truth and lies.
Pleasures and disgust, foolish yet wise.
But not me, oh I do not crave living.
I want to die while sleeping.
By my last breath,
I will be dreaming.

Walking on a bright blue shore,
I can see the sea of daffodils!
Like diyas floating on a green pond,
They wave together with the winds.

In such serenity, strikes lightning,
Abrupt, accurate, it cuts the breeze,
I hear the air get charged and sing,
Songs that take away my peace.

In a hard bed, on a flattened pillow I sleep.
In a blue light, not of moon, blurred as I weep.
Lies curled my body, lifeless yet blooming.
I want to die while sleeping.
By my last breath,
I will be dreaming.

I can hear screams from the days ahead.
They cry so loud for the days faded away.
I stand alone in between, heavily clad
With a torch in hand, I search and sway.

I don't see anything, not even the fog.
As if the black night keeps eating my light
Shivering in cold, I turn round the torch
And the world lights up, as if painted in white.

Can I be yours? My world, I ask you.
One that is deluded, where live very few.
Oh! you're both the same, except that line I drew.
And I keep drawing.
From my first breath,
I am always dreaming.