I had these dream of lark houses
It has so many windows but not a light could pass
A cup of tea and a boiling water
I tried to mix them with all my might

The rigor created a huge crack in the center
The vengeful soul crafted a man from his sorrow
Without a doubt he followed his rule
Until he became an orphan of his little dream
He suffered and lost his hope
He never knew life as he was dead when he became alive.