There we are.Enough is enough.To put on the colours of mourning is easy.To reach out from hell is easy enough.Some people call it strength.I call it weakness.Weakness to survive.Weakness to live.Weakness to feel pain.Some people say I do not feel it.But I enjoy it; for the memories that are with it are too valuable or let us say inseparable to erase.
In my mind I live,
In places where none belong,
Sunsets , where I live alone,
In the winds , I feel,
A touch , a smile and her.
A sunset yet to live,
The winds still musty from her,
The memories that still call,
To the winds that never die.
My bottle calls, deep I drink,
But my bottles aside,
And still I drink for her.
I dream and will i wake,
Do i want , do i dare,
Still I slumber ...half dead ...part awake.
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