Lost

Under the city lights, I walk.
On the road by my side, the cars pass by.
I stare the full moon. I'm not even there, in that moment. I am somewhere in the cosmos, except there.
I walk under the city lights.
I can't see you! Where are you?
Familiar faces. Here and there. And not always familiar, means friendly.
Night time. Thoughts fly away. Nothing matters.
The ful moon spreads it's light. If I were in the woods, the trees would be killers or traps. Shadows could be spirits appealed by any kind of offering. Aliens to study anatomy. If I were in the woods, I would be nothing more than a little worm.
I feel and my feelings go to waste. I feel and everything burns.
What calls the past? And what's wrong than being our own views portraited what bothers us the most? What calls the past, worst than that?
I see. I feel. I try to survive. But I am so lost. Lord, I feel so lost.

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