No, I don't want to come back. Not yet. To your city, once again. It was my city till you painted it a different shade. And now this kaleidoscope of colors hurt my sight, blind my eyes. Everything I touch reminds me of your presence, every turn I take brings me closer to your voice. I am content here, in a distant land, far away from you at last. The idea of that flight I have to take scares me dead. I am not ready yet. Not now, not ever.
Do you know how sand sifts through fingers? My existence, my life, my gaiety has begun to fall away like the sand billowing in the screeching winds. There is off course the familiarity of known faces. People I call my home. My shelter in torrential rain. Yet all these assurances never could assuage my soul. That is your city now. The leaves shedding from the trees are tainted by your hands. I have lost the city, I called my home. While wandering aimlessly through the distant lands, I have pieced some of the shards together. Gluing them into a splintered frame. There was a picture in it too. I tore that apart in a moment of rage. I see it now. Your city from the window, as I descend. Beastly, unforgiving, inhuman. Lighted by thousand lights, yet dark like the pits of hell.
Do you know how sand sifts through fingers? My existence, my life, my gaiety has begun to fall away like the sand billowing in the screeching winds. There is off course the familiarity of known faces. People I call my home. My shelter in torrential rain. Yet all these assurances never could assuage my soul. That is your city now. The leaves shedding from the trees are tainted by your hands. I have lost the city, I called my home. While wandering aimlessly through the distant lands, I have pieced some of the shards together. Gluing them into a splintered frame. There was a picture in it too. I tore that apart in a moment of rage. I see it now. Your city from the window, as I descend. Beastly, unforgiving, inhuman. Lighted by thousand lights, yet dark like the pits of hell.
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