When the stories shift like sand,
You feel like an outcast in your own land.
Trying to swim in an ocean of uncertain,
Sinking, but not making an effort to halt the closing curtain.... more »
The curve tells a story,
The twinkle sings a song.
Fresh as the first drop of dew on a winter morning,
Peaceful as death, but full of life.... more »
I drown in the memories.
Clutching my fingers helplessly,
Trying to hold on to the aroma,... more »