Energy is conserved and so is love.

It can neither be created nor destroyed
but transform itself from one form to another.

Maybe not as kinetic, electric or potential
but maybe as potential, persevering and perpetual.

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Maybe I don't even like you,
perhaps just envy you.

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The mountains are calling
and I must leave.

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And all I want to do is,
Make one wish at a time,
Take one step at a time,
Live one moment at a time.

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And sometimes I yearn to visit your grave,
where I buried you a long time ago,
not to mourn your death,
but to check if you are still alive.

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And what difference is it going to make,
must I discover the existence of the unknown.
Will it turn my reality into a facade,
or will it unravel itself into a whole new truth?

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And in all those moments of despair,
you were the only ray of hope.
A ray that burns like radiation.

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And all I see is a tunnel, a tunnel that leads nowhere.

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Death is but a very passionate seductress.

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Maybe I will discover you in traces,
Maybe I will find you in bits and pieces,
Maybe you will unravel yourself as a whole,
Or maybe I will never find you at all.

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