When we were kids we used to dream,

So why did we lose those dreams,

Is it this cruel world that leads us to scream,

An ugly frustrated scream,

Or is it our impossible dreams,

Is it my fault I was born a dreamer,

Or is it my fault that once I started,

I insisted to scream,

Laud and deafening screams,

To try to touch my dream,

To close my eyes and see sunshine,

To block the grays and blacks,

Or is it this world vast and wide,

That has no place for dreams,

I scream and scream yet dreams are still dreams,

Wisps of smoke from a fire ,

Dying inside me until there are no dreams,

I don't even know how much longer I could keep on breathing,

My voice is gone like my fire,

No dreams, no screams,

All is left is the ashes,

And a memory of a dream,

An echo of a dying scream.