--- The Street of Dreams By Vijay Sharma Erry Endless highways of misdirected means, To walk along the lonely street of dreams, To live in a world where nothing is as it seems, And take pursuit of pleasure to extremes... The neon signs flicker, whisper, and call, Yet silence echoes louder than them all, Faces pass by, masked in painted disguise, Carrying secrets beneath hollow eyes. Each step resounds with questions untold, Each shadow a memory, each breeze icy cold, Hopes stitched fragile in the fabric of night, Fragile wings yearning, desperate for flight. There are doors along this street, half-open, half-shut, One leads to laughter, another to a rut, Some promise of love, some threaten with pain, Yet the traveler keeps walking, again and again. For dreams are illusions, yet sweeter than truth, They feed on the hunger of wandering youth, They whisper of futures too golden to hold, They offer warm fire, but deliver cold. And yet, to forsake them is harder still, For the heart beats wild with an untamed will, Chasing the horizon that dances away, Like dawn that flees when night wants to stay. Loneliness hums like a song in the rain, The melody etched with longing and pain, But within its rhythm lies a strange release, A chance for the broken to find inner peace. Every dreamer here wears a crown of scars, Guided by fading, half-forgotten stars, And though the path bends, uncertain, unknown, The street of dreams is where souls are grown. Sometimes the dream turns into a snare, A palace of riches, built only on air, But sometimes it leads, through the struggle and fight, To a moment of truth, to the birth of light.