Where Freed Balloons Go

What happened to the dreams
of happiness and joy,
where did they go?
Abandoning me to the night.

To try to dream of happiness
is like chasing
the released balloon as it flies:
hopeless.

Where do the balloons go?
When they are set free,
as they fly among the clouds,
to destinations that only they know.

Are my dreams like a balloon,
to float upwards, and never return,
leaving only a silhouette,
to dance across the moon?

Sleep is getting closer,
I cannot fight too long,
too bad my good dreams,
like the freed balloons,
are gone.