#memworks

I miss you my old soul buddy

I want to turn eight years back for free

To feel the old happiness and glee

Where there's no expectation nor worry

Where adage judgment isn't for me

Drive carelessly as I steer my wheel

Fly the highest and feel the coldest wind

Fall the lowest, get up and repeat

Shallow moods and stress are in the city

And depression isn't part of my dictionary

Yes, I damned miss my own self terribly

You did better that day, a good journey

And I am here swimming in a gloom sea.

I pray one day we'll meet halfway

And reunite my melancholic soul

To you, my old piece of shit.

No, I am not resting

Three years in a row

I am waiting

Still waiting every morrow

Faith in fading hope

A vague fortune

A pain to cope

A great vain in tune

I'm about to let go the rope.

I found you there in the darkest corner. Where you exhale your weary chapter. Lured I was, as your red lips kiss thy wine. As I stare to those bleary eyes of thine. People known you as the sturdy dame. But, in solitaire you’re fragile and lame. As breakable as your Bordeaux glass. As delicate as the fleurs in Grasse. They merely know your name, But not the story behind that frame.

But, the words you've told had scarred my soul.