07, June 2015.
But moving on, changing places or taking a plane
and leave this bruised home seems impossible for me,
still trapped in this four cold, foggy, silent walls.
The energy of what could have been and the lost hope
is still audible from the distance.
Here, at the edge of this bridge,
where the lonely road disappears in the early morning winds.
This whole town is still burning from the lost battles and fought wars,
with dead ashes from a broken heart.
Sep 7, 2016
Sep 7, 2016 at 10:58 AM UTC
07, June 2015.
But moving on, changing places or taking a plane
and leave this bruised home seems impossible for me,
still trapped in this four cold, foggy, silent walls.
The energy of what could have been and the lost hope
is still audible from the distance.
Here, at the edge of this bridge,
where the lonely road disappears in the early morning winds.
This whole town is still burning from the lost battles and fought wars,
with dead ashes from a broken heart.
