My current life is in rewind mode.
I’m looking for answers. I’m looking for codes.
Calmness for me is like a ghost.
I’m looking for answers. They are foremost.

There’s no need for sorrow, no need for cry.
It counts for nothing. It's all a lie.
I need to find the very twist.
But time doesn’t slow down at least.

I’m going backwards. My memory’s tricky.
It keeps all in mind. It is so sticky.
I rake up all: how loved, how fought,
How I forgave, and how I sought.

I spilled into ash, but I got up.
I saved myself, but others closed up.
I’m digging, throwing, looking for answers.
It beats me whole. It’s like a cancer.

What if that's all a fiction, a wrong?
Like the Atlantis, sunk too long.
A legend, which is almost forgotten.
And me, who wasn’t loved as a rotten.

And now I’m going back again,
Ridiculous, clumsy, unhelpful, mundane.  
My world relocated a long time ago.
It’s an emptiness warehouse, a storage of Echo.