Soon the cool breeze will freeze…Freeze into a cold whiff pricking you along the road…
Soon the sun will go down…
Down, down, down…till you can’t find it anymore.
Very soon the air will smell of stale dead leaves,
Of dead flowers trampled upon…
Soon enough the lights shall blur on the streets,
Leaving you in company of the eerie smog…
Soon a sudden gust of warm air will remind you of a home…
You will run and run…backwards…with heated ears and restless breath.
Soon you will knock...on a familiar, dilapidated door,
Only to be frozen too…frozen by that face you see…
Frozen by the painful memory of the face you never get to see…
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