Just enough to write.

The boy who shook the tree
And brought all the flowers to my feet
The boy who rocked the cradle
And lulled me through my dreams
The boy who ran miles
And crossed the bridges I built in pain
He lays by me now, next to me; in a solemn place
Where nothing hurts and nothing fades

The winter, too long; sending shivers down my spine
It has passed. When he wrapped those arms around
Spring was here and summer followed soon
To wash down the gloom
In the sun, sweat and tears; to happiness
Here’s my ode to you. When you pass by the lake of years gone by, stop.
Turn back and tell a tale; of how a boy freed a soul caged.

Your dreams are your illusions of a perfect world
But the castles that you build in the air keeps you going for a while
Before you fall, and yet again start dreaming
Adjusting your vision, tweaking your story
When you turn blind towards the dark, it still surrounds you, unacknowledged
To break through it requires something else, or may be it’s a myth
May be there is no getting over, only pure escaping
Again and again it strikes you
On a bright sunny day, in the middle of a spring laughter
All that you locked up once comes gushing back
Relentless effort, the box is too small to hold it back together

To end this life is to end it once and for all
But then again, have you seen Cerce valley yet?