One typical night, I felt empty and had to leave my head.
Abandoned the view of my ceiling and rose from the bed.
Maybe a late-night walk in the quiet street,
And the cold air against my feet,
Will take me back to where I suppose I left.

Sitting under the lights,
I heard the cries of the night.
Laughter over tranquil starry skies,
Whimpers are on the smiling passersby.
Nothing can I do, but flee again, somewhere nearby.

Waves were especially calm when the night was old,
I sat on the shore, to listen to stories I might have been told.
I sat there, a few minutes more until the sun was waking up.
The wind seemed to chase me away, wanting to be alone—
And intimate with the waves that kiss the shore.

I looked at my watch and checked, but its hands are still and dead.
Staring to the sleepy sunrise, I wondered where Time could have been left,
But my moment left is never eternity, I had to rush to my room.
Clocks are ticking, Time must be back from the doom.
It was a brief roam, separately of Time and I, but nature has redeemed me from the gloom.

© loucaaedee