Nueva York

Everything was built on a fantasy

The fantasy of someone

The fantasy of somewhere

The fantasy of flying.

All the world was nothing but the illusion

The illusion of existence

The illusion of escape

The illusion of being real.

Each memory was edited

For the magic

For the mystery

For the dream.

And as soon as she wakes up

is going to see the buildings

Falling down

Thousand windows

Breaking down

And a hungry monster coming up.

Fotografía por: Can Dagarslani