And in one day they were tear apart. And then one day they were counting the days. And then she was new once again. It was time. Time to rhyme once more. Silence. It’s time to die again. To see the mountain shining. The Wind blowing the grey days. The sun is not coming. The cold whisper above the face. The nightmares of one unic truth. Her days are specif to suffer. Her days are doomed. Her days are only new when there is a new love.
It's hard. Always.