Roving through long and deserted avenues,
Space and silence are the nocturnal rewards,
The dimming lights of a wet city fill the mirror.
The swamp of urban routine is left behind.
Dreaming of orchards lining the steppe,
Looking for a path, disregarding any destination,
I discover myself gazing far beyond the river.
 

Lost in the memory of your uncertain smile,
When I finally stop, I'm next to the ocean.
An old friend, he listens to my thoughts,
Whispering a frigid and intransigent breeze,
It makes me fly out of my inner labyrinth,
Enticing me into refreshing emotions.
Gently, attracts me ever closer to you,
Should I attempt any resistance?
 
 

M.Daedalus