Black Rose

Does it really matter what happens in the end?
Every time, once in a year, before my birthday, I seem to feel all the sorrow I can handle. Seems like I want to close myself into a steel box and never come out again. I somehow think what has happened over the years. What have I done? At this point of my life... am i satisfied?
Most times I have found myself answering "no", some few times I have been under the deception the world can be a better place, but again, for whom? If it is a better place for me, will it be for you? Cause it seems that you and me cannot co-exist... All the love... all the hate and all the passion you give to the moment, but why do you remember only the bad things?... My pen seems to have stopped, do I know the answer...?
I want to fly, away, and never come back. it's the Black Rose of my happiness, a rose unable to fill me with colour, but able to make my wish come true... a distant sensation... a bitter-sweet feeling...
Maybe I'm starting to figure out that answer. It's a yearn, a yearn for unknown freedom, a thirst for my wishes that haven't been fulfilled, that makes me remember of the gray past...
I want to erase it and never look back. it would just seem as a movie I disliked from now on, if only you are with me... will you?Cause if you accompany me, in this whole journey that opens up in front of me, who will ever care about the destination, how it will end? The only thing I'll be thinking of, will be this moment, this one moment with you that I was so long been waitring for...

Παρασκευή 27 Ιουνίου 2008