Empty envelopes of never-replied letters; post cards from the past left unsent. Beautiful words in calligraphy left to fade. Suppressed feelings sent back to the stockpile inside.
Like time that relax on dark nights. Not fated, yet discovering solace. Not from the darkness, but from its chime. Waking up to the hush of empty spaces left behind.
Like candles that withstand the wind. Love lost to the innocence of time. Music of silence that charms till the soul could take it no more.
He yearns for the western winds.
The half-sung song it left behind.
Like time that relax on dark nights. Not fated, yet discovering solace. Not from the darkness, but from its chime. Waking up to the hush of empty spaces left behind.
Like candles that withstand the wind. Love lost to the innocence of time. Music of silence that charms till the soul could take it no more.
He yearns for the western winds.
The half-sung song it left behind.
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