What's the destiny of those who love
in sound frequencies that are long gone?
Like the strum of a guitar in front of a smiling face
through a romantic verse as its saving grace.
What about lying in a rooftop sharing dreams?
Making life to be more than it really seems.
The silly promises that hit like a drug
spike our emotions and end on a hug.
Where is the rush of energy where silence dies?
The dawn of possibilities that everything defies.
Expectations, passion, sheer affection and desire
that made it so nothing was ever dire.
Was all that a dream? A jest? A phase?
A cruel joke just stuffed in my face?
Did I tailored my soul for it to turn into mist
searching for a light that no longer exists?
