What am I writing about?
Let me destroy. Create. Destroy again. Re-create.
Do not allow me to forget who has been staying all this time. Do not allow me to forget those who simply left.
Good old times.
Good old looks.
Good old smiles.
Good old laughs.
Seek. Seek me in the park, laid in the land, smoking a cigarette. Seek me in the countryside, wondering the beauty of the mountain ahead. Seek me mourning the loss, the death, the forever gone passion. Seek me. Do not give up on me.
I am here, standing by you.
I feel... somewhat of something. Clear?
I am the footsteps in the darkness of the night.
I am the shadow at your window.
I am the nocturnal birds, crossing the sky of the city.
I am the prayer.
The light of the candle.
The spell you leave in the woods.
I am the forever embrace, the forever cold, the forever silence.
The moon stays up there.
The world changes.
You are there, seing the moon on your corner.
I am here. I've seen it's beauty while I walked to work, under the cold breeze of the night.
We're living life the way it pleases us the most. We're living life in a way that we can... well, afford. Dare to live it at it's fullest with the small income we have.
You, in your land.
Me, in mine.
We're ready and about to fly. But it's not the due time. Not yet.
And I cannot forget. I cannot dare to forget, to lower my guard.
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