The sun has left the Western skyline, and I am still here with the time that stopped from walking away.
Was the color of a night dark? Or was it bright?
Will I find the same mien of loneliness, the one that tasted as Sweet as sugar?
I am not leaving the world, but will the world waits for me?
If I was left behind, is this loneliness? I left everything behind, is this also loneliness?
The thing I saw perhaps everything but where I stand this very moment.