The wind has come, and left nothing but whispers, whispers in my ears.
I threw my wishes to the air, I heard voices that pierced my skin.
I started writing letters to keep them still, but they didn’t seem to fit.
The cold breeze revolved them into dust, they said, "It is time to let go of the past."
The whispers tried to reach my understanding, but time pulled us apart.
We know we disintegrate while waiting, we are just molecules and spirits that cannot be reinvented.
“Leave the old one, let the past self destroy itself," is what I heard.
I am listening to songs of blissful moments and longings in my head, moving forward and backwards, keeping my memory untouched.
The voices are tenderly evaporating, caressing my mind and healing my heart.
“Let yourself vanish," is what they said, before they faded away. It is necessary in order to transform into something beautiful, another kind of beautiful.
The wind blows by one last time, caresses me gently and makes me feel alive. The whispers left now, and it is time to say goodbye.