Go on and forget about me.
Forget that I have ever lived.
Forget that we've ever shared a child of friendship,
an island of trust,
that our hands have ever
metamorphosed to the bundles of bonding,
walking through the isle
Forget about that this loan was ever fenced
and this hut was ever cozy and warm,
a train keeping on whistling and smoking
for life were passing through,
crossing the habits of existence
sewing through these valleys,
The one that we always imagined
was out there,
otherwise, they would have never existed.
Forget the knife that divided us equally to two,
was also the poking prod
stitching us forever together,
sewing us by piercing us on and on.
The same thorns that bleed the roses
ascend them to a crimson blooming!
Forget that in our brief moments,
we shared an eternity together,
that we shared in an instant,
in the flash of thunders,
illuminating us for seconds
in subliminal images of ourselves,
inspiring the illusion of existence
in our minds' screens,
yet hovering over us for ever
because we’ve seen each other’s naked soul
and the whiteness that this endless night
tries so hard to burry,
retreats to our shadows.