Diary-1

The wind slaps my face. The night keeps me awake. Mornings have usually been far away. But I can remember their brightness. The bright sunny dawns when a handful of rays poured through the opening called sky. The opening has been shut. Permanently shut! The lid sits tight. But my eyes are open. And nothing seems to be able to shut them. I chase the mirage of sleep. But the dark - I can make out the shape of my dreams from the distance. If only there was some light, I could see my dreams clearly. But the wind slaps my face. The night keeps me awake.