A candle is burning. White. I don't remember the last time I lit a candle just for myself. The black one recently doesn't count - it had a meaning by itself. But tonight I felt like lighting a candle.
An incense is spreading. It's unfamiliar. It's not mine. Hers. Is it still hers? Or she changed it? I don't care. I want to plundge into the memory. The memory about the time when it was all ok. The only problem was the distance and the only enemy - the fear. I want to dream tonight... To dream about the future. A future without pain and fear. A future in which I'll feel whole again. A short future maybe but a future. Mine.
I hope it turns out like I imagine it. Why not? So many harder things are now at hand. But yes, without the little touch I crave it's all in vain.
It won't be in vain. I've become too much of a fighter to go down so easily. How did that girl call me? A warrior. Maybe...
This warrior has put too much in this to watch it fall apart.
This man is too old now to die again. And he won't.
a litlle cinical anthem - Puddle Of Mudd - She Hates Me :)