Thoughts of you,
our history,
flow through my mind insistently.
My energy
is wasted on remorse,
and while I'm struggling desperately
to keep my dignity,
your destiny
is following its course.
A memory, life's driving force
Whispers in the dark;
a meeting at the park,
a flash
of sudden inspiration.
We rode out into the night,
surrounded by moonlight,
to an unknown destination;
and with memories following close behind,
we climbed up a hill to gaze at the sky -
to talk about life as it's passing us by,
and we tried to find the reasons why
Is it useless to hope that this torment will cease
and passions lose allure?
That time will offer some kind of release
and memories will blur?
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