• toobashahid 4w


    Something is there,
    Inside that sphere.
    Of which i am made,
    Because of whom i am in the race.
    This sphere does not correspond,
    With what i really want.
    My brain give the direction,
    For my correction.
    But , this sphere do not do,
    Even what is good too.
    I really do not know,
    Why this sphere is covered with snow.
    I really can not melt it,
    And make my desired outfit.
    I don't know what stops me,
    Yes, the reason this sphere can be.
    I am locked between it's radius,
    Even though i can be precious.
    But i can not break the bars,
    And reach the farthest star .
    Which is really shining,
    And also too much alluring.
    To reach there,
    I need to break that sphere.
    Which always stop me,
    From becoming what i want to be.