They fathom what he is like. Rude, selfish, shy, carefree are some of the speculations made.
Within seconds, he can alleviate your stress with sparkles of joy. He relies on his muse; his vivid imagination and the ability to see things in their true form, a thinker he is. He smells raw.
He has a boon, he can feel. He can delve into the deepest trenches of emotions and come out enriched, and with a few words.
The trivialities of life, jealousy, hatred, to name a few, are not the best of his companions. He lives, he loves, he can even cry at thoughts.
He is pretty sure that it is inside, the happiness. He has been hearing a lot about it of late.
He dreams, he hopes that he can fly to the lands and waters and imbibe everything that he can.
Thinks about fears and follies,
Then rubbishes them all.
Hopes, dreams, flies,
Into the infinite skies.
Smiles, listens, shouts,
He can be confused at times.
Loves, shares, cries,
With all his heart might.
He is a human being,
With his Lucid Dreams.
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