Cold, distant and alone on a hot spring afternoon.
Through me I can see the desolation.
Confusion takes over everything.
Anguish blooms like flowers in this spring season.
While outside the sun smiles.
Where am I going?
What is the way?
And the echo of this room, already known by heart.
Returns a couple of reproaches and some blame.
Like an infusion, I am absorbing the things that ironically come.
From my own body, from there from the depths of my mind and heart.
Past memories and things you long for struggling.
Pulling at each end of the rope in search of a winner.
You can't live on memories.
Is it possible to hold on to what I long for?
Maybe it can be fulfilled. Although I see it cloudy from the window.
