I know not what to call it

The mornings have lost its touch,
And I dream of daisies no more.
The nights do not amount to much,
But a daily dose of darkness with snores.

A body set free in the empty space,
Rolling away in the curves of time.
Chasing light but losing the race,
Yet reaching the place destined.

A mind full of horrid dreams,
With a subtle hue of death in the eye for miles.
Which sees you if it wants to scream,
But comes up only with a smile.

How I wish discover your face,
With a newborn's full of wonder gaze.
Your hair that flow with a river's grace,
And float in the wind in a motion of blaze.

But I have got a mountain to climb,
A sea to swim and sky to cross,
For reasons I have yet to find.
In forests tall I grow but like a clump of moss.

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