Morning

Morning The new white sun, climbs over the hills and mountains in the distance, to spread its brilliant bright rays over the land. Some embrace the moment and look straight into the sky. Others run to their holes in the ground. There are traces of their passing all around. Time is stretching in a funny way, I want to say, I want to describe, I want to hide as well, as there is no reason to believe that hell has not been let go. Tears fill my eyes, as the years have gone by too fast. I believe now... they were never meant to last. That is the reason we treasure, the pleasure of remembering, everything the way it should be, and not as it is in our memory.