Baited breathes with my dreams on the steps where i long to chase your breathes
Soon she tells me, as soon as seconds pass i ask the old man with a clock if this is according to plan
That i can't feel your hand, that we can't stand on the sand, that we can't breathe by the plants, that we face this distance like ants
He grants a gesture with his clock then festers my mental. His time is not gentle
But she told me soon my love
So my eyes shall be blind and pry my mind from distractions of some kind and await this soon that shall arive
My love
Soon