I am a spectacle of dust fragile and small, Strayed away from a desert storm, Away to escape from the rising roar, Anywhere the wind walks, it shall whisper to my soul As if my will is not my own, Or maybe, It was my choice, To be carried by a mere blow, To believe the will of the unseen, Is stronger than my own, Maybe just maybe, To be a speck of dust, deprived of any power, Was easier to stand like a giant against the storm, No, no, Hush now, my dear mind, Listen as the wind sing your oblivious lullaby, I am nothing but a spectacle of dust, Powerless to hold my ground, Weightlessly flying towards the sun, Free of the storm behind Life is easier when you believe you are powerless isn’t it? Someone dies, politicians lie, and the Money corrupts mind. You know the life around and you accept it the way it is, believing you cannot change anything. But sometimes does it also meddle with your mind? That tiny little voice saying you can and you shou