The fire of yesterday's days no longer burns so brightly, and it will never be in the heart again.
It's hot without the people who filled it, who were nearby, until the end they shared sorrows and joys.
We didn't look away from the moments of joy, carefree days brightly remained in the photos.
Deprivation: Time doesn't heal, but tries to erase our maimed fates, to protect.
Embracing silence, we will become closer again; low vibrations will never become higher.
Alone with myself again, conversations, attempts to understand for peace of mind. But what is maimed, piece by piece, you won't glue back together.
It won't be the same. This is a broken world, an overflowing cup, a flight in tears.
In the warmth of memories, I want to be with you. At the broken guitar, you won't pull the strings anymore if you don't hear the sound yourself.
You're inside as if you died; moments of joy will remain with you forever. I really want to convince you they won't disappear, they painfully torment my soul. Only memories, and every story about you, every mention. Your light of soul,
I will carry within me through the distance. Nothing, alas, can be changed, no matter what you wish.
Whether we want it or not, the picture will fade; our time is flowing away. As a result, we will become ashes, we will become ashes, we will become ashes.
