You complain of the black clouds that are rolling up and down.
You complain of the cold night to the bone.
Eve this you hate.
And you want to go soon.
Stand up legs.
No jaunt in the face, go immediately.
You complain this silence without anyone to accompany.
You complain of a heart that never stops.
That feeling you miss.
And you want tuk to arrive soon.
And again dreaming.
Drizzled in the warm embrace of the sunlight.