El mar de la melancolía.

 

1.927 / 5.000

Mentally locked up prisoner as physically a whirlwind of feelings that I still don't know how to describe, absent from that problem, now, absent from every time I loved her, far from the hands that caressed me until I slept deeply, absent from the lips that kissed my spirit which sailed in peace, forgotten from those eyes that looked at me so much, that cried so much for me, from which I reflected my entire life, missing, missing you even after more than 3 winters, my foolish mind can't confirm what has already been done, the nightmare already fulfilled, I still remember those moments in which I thought about this situation, in which it would never happen but like the light at the end of the tunnel we had to arrive, the wind took away everything for which I fought, for which I stayed up all night for you to be happy, now you are happy, now I am unhappy living sobriety and I are fighting, we hate each other, although sometimes I adore her, sometimes I love her I hate, I prefer to sail in the sea of ​​​​sky in which the clouds are stones, the moon the light by which I guide myself, I sail in a ship without crew and without captain, a ship adrift guided by the wind, exploring the reasons why you left, looking for the answers to those questions that we always asked ourselves and silent the silence ran through our presence, you left, you moved away, you took everything, everything, you didn't warn me, you didn't let me defend myself and even if it had been the opposite, I wouldn't defend myself I would fall into your arms and wielding a dagger I would commit suicide so that my blood would run through your cold hands and thus warm in the middle of the loneliness, which you never knew I made sure that it never came near you, but in exchange for what, in exchange for giving my soul, to who knows? To whomever it may concern, I only ask you for one favor, not too much, nor too much, give me back my soul and the happiness that you cowardly snatched from me in your hands.