the only things remaining are my feelings for you.
Maybe you left,
wounding my soul…
A part of you remains at my hearts door,
beating a rhythm just I can understand,
one violin, one sad story at the end.
When those broken sounds,
and your catching fragrance merge
making a poem, of the oblivion
layered in bittersweet sensations.
When the violins stop and that poem is not written,
life ends a cycle
and takes me with him.
Never shall I trust myself,
no music is playing… condemned to silence,
a thousand violins could play
I could never hear them.
Leaves that fall
Leaves that fall…
they could be compared to us all,
lost each other in the chaos that followed.
Without one and another they are not the same,
they are falling to the ground,
and that’s the only thing
they have in common.
Misery soon follows,
destiny plays the cards right
always wins, taking us out.
We are soldiers of luck
on a field scattered with landmines,
blindfolded and uselessly carrying big guns.
We had our orders,
we gone rogue that’s fine,
let me hug you, hold your hand
and take a couple of steps…
I never say goodbye
not even at the end.
No comments:
Post a Comment