I know I promised you that. I know I promised we will hang around till we grow old and gray. When that time comes, all this pain is over. Wounds healed already. All we will have are wrinkled, happy smiles on our faces...

But it's such a long long journey ahead. Right now I am so discouraged already. Would there really be something to look forward to? Here I am, there you are ... with meteors of fears and doubts in between us. Our hands barely could touch, our hearts parched from too much wanting. How much more of it could you take? Until you lose grip and find your own ground to land?

Why do you stay? There is nothing left in my music but sad, mournful refrains. I have since mastered the art of dying from each breath. The more I throb, the I less I feel anything...