There is nothing left to savor.
Nothing left to hope or long for.
No bright future to be seen on the horizon
That could prove me that I should endeavor.

No skyline and sceneries to be lit,
To be burnt into a picture to trust just a bit.
I wouldn't know what my wish truly lies on
So its evidences are not quite concrete.

Horizons are known to be false, however my will
Lies on and lies on, despite the limits it knows of.  
So, if there is a wish for a superior future to come real -
Leave the logic and lust out of it; it's up to you, love.




© December 2001