like a fan-fiction story
where a contented and cheerful being l o v e d the endless misery life of a human being
at the end the author will decide
but that time i d i d n 't wanted to wake up
from this such fantasy
that later i will wake up on.
was it really a fantasy?
or just a t e m p o r a r y bubble?
or it was just a maladaptive dreaming
in the abyss of agony
where love, i was craving for.