I lie down, looking at the brown light which keeps on getting dimmer as the time passes,
And I cling to the nearest wall I can touch.
Writing your name upon it, softly.
A thousand walls behind, maybe there is you.
Clinging to the nearest wall you can touch.

What if your thousand walls are in opposite direction to mine?
Will you still come to take me away?
Will the pain flow out my toes, or it is always through the eyes?
And, whether this heart would feel lighter?
And what if all the metaphors were never true and fairies were just in tales,
Would you still never leave?

And how does it feel, when you need to suppress the highest wave that hit your shore?
And why can't all of us cry in arms of those we love whenever we want?

I whisper in the wall, I miss you so much.
Does it reach you? And If not, why so far?

I listen to the wall back,
And It asks,
"Who decides such things?"

-