His name is still screamed
in nights of true loneliness.
And the echo is enough
to convince me.

If there was some change,
please keep it safe
like any happening.

The dawn is still admirable
even after its absence.
And at night I miss the whispers:
about her, about me and about us.

If there is a feeling,
please show it to me
and then I'll be more hopeful.