Monday, April 11, 2011


I'm longing for winter's chill.

For the numbing air to burn my veins frozen.

I am the saddest one.
I am the deserted one.

Not a soul is wandering, because you feel no warmth.
No journey to the farthest reaches could make time change.

When I'm called, the darkness my cradle-
I am drunk with heavy footsteps and my mind becomes slave.

I was told that every day would be my last.

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