Surrounded by your own borders. The distance remains. You can let non recognizable sounds stay orphans. You choose music. You make scenes of tomorrow. Such that worth living for.

Dived in inertia. Fooling around the traffic. Special loneliness. Covers sounds. Indifferent. A breath. Your pulse.

Bloodless games. By a gone era. Raining sweat. You are tired. You do not play. Life is a game. For others. Without the human limit. They rob. There is no score.

You learn. Not to look for. The decision is to go along. You don't stand in scenes around you. The drama and the joy choose time. The patience drains the hope. You keep dawn. To make it your own. Every single morning.

You breathe the sunrise. A course of you desire. Travel colours. A hug does not erase the return. It became your main attraction. An invisible direction. Which generates the appeal. With any cost. To find Ithaca.

Drug free.The absence is present. It becomes unbearable.

You read. Few bright words. Bold stars. Defeating the darkness. Leading your life.

Rewind and forward. Scenes that have been played a million tines. Same start and the same end. Raining memories. You accept the era. You wait for what's next. Dressed in patience. Being indifferent.

You get stubborn. You make the words punches. You throw them out in the air. For the people to hear. You tighten your teeth. Human pain. Compatible with fate. For a while you lose the sounds around you. You're wrapped in your own defeat. You get isolated. One more defeat. Your own one. A smile remains frozen. It did not had the time to be erased.

No moment rolls anymore. It sits hooked at the last stare. Stubborn. She is tired to rain with raindrops our life.