Paper Planes and Skylines

There’s something magical about a paper plane. A simple fold transforms a blank sheet into a vessel of dreams. You’d launch it into the air, hoping it would defy gravity and carry your wishes to the stars. Life felt that way sometimes—fragile but full of potential, gliding on borrowed momentum.

The skyline was your canvas, painted with amber sunsets and city lights that sparkled like a thousand unspoken promises. You dreamed of soaring past it, of breaking free from the weight of everyday life. The paper planes were your practice runs, each one whispering, "You’ll get there someday."

This is a song for the dreamers—the ones who fold their hopes into paper wings and aim for the infinite, even if they don’t know where they’ll land.