∴ The boy holds loneliness in his hands,
The clear blue sky, it bears no meaning whatsoever
Why is spring an ideal?
The voice of a faraway promise ….
I can no longer hear it.
Even if I’d be still [ … ] by tomorrow,
The days where nothing [ … ]
Probably won’t end.
✠ Thank you to my wife, Ryanna, for the support! Check her Flickr by clicking on her name!