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Witness
I feel the gentle breeze of sadness blowing
In the core of my soul there was absence of something,
Realizing season after season it had never failed me,
Pained me with who am I supposed to be.
The ground is cold but used to be stumbled by,
A place when there's no shoulder for me to lie,
The ticks of my life are the only music I hear
But with great desperation I seek for an image I missed to be with.
No one understood the stop I sought,
Where I gained a lot of hardness and tears are what my eyes brought
With the determination not to forget it before the sun,
The breathing sounds echoing, searching for sounds but there was none.
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