I do not know how this will end... perhaps, I should not even lift my pen - A ghost you were in the year before Nothing about you did I adore. What could have happened then? descend did I, into sinking sand? I never knew about you Yet here I am.
Speaking of days buried in the past In my mind, in vain, they were left to rust. Your smile was bright. Your soul a light. The piano was your voice, a voice I liked... My words are flowing out, but here they must