This stillness of feelings must get over.
I shift between melancholy for what’s lost and fear for what will come.
As my head’s not too strong and not too ample too contain all the knowledge I’m longing to.
Old dreams getting rusty in the sand while I’m not able to move on trapped in a cage of fake affection.
I’m giving up to life, to an easy state of mind where I can float eternally.
Like a silent dance of corrupted ghosts, I can’t avoid this anxiety, this sense of wasting time.
This bird sing terribly in the warm sun of this autumn day.
And I, stuck in my corner, I keep on breathing.