The stillness of your calm mind as you sit down in front of me — where the Tower stand before us.
Silence dealt with us.
Your burning palms faced the Sunny time in the afternoon of August's lively scene.
No curiosities, your suffering remained without feelings — you were an oppressed piece made from littered paintings.
Silence remained veiled.
The iridescent eyes of yours attracted me to a hall full of covered specks of dust like dawn without Light.
I shelved my next destination for me to stride inside your brown eyes — its color embraced me to another painting — from where your field exists.
Scattered blossoms as you lay there.
I listened to you humming the simple chorus swung me into the Invisible Station. The train caught me, then in Metro — the Tower sets against us.
No surprises, I did nothing. The song finished his words.
You stood — left me but your iridescent eyes will remain.
“Silence, this is my final fit.”
I accidentally clicked, 'No Surprises' by Radiohead and I wrote this, as someone in the Comment Section saw a guy listening to this song in Metro, Paris.