The wind whispers to my ear
-memories I buried long ago-
And kisses it goodbye; seducing me
only to later run away
creating whirlwinds with its steps,
whirlwinds which suck my mind in.

As she leaves its place;
my body becomes an empty shell
-patiently awaiting-
Yet, my mind ventures inside
where lay decayed figures
she knows far too well.

Between all those familiar figures
a hidden blood soaked road appears
that reminds me of a past I'd rather forget.
But she grins and hurries her steps
following the smell of death,
and the screams of those who venture through
fooled by lively colors and stimulation
that lead to emotional death.

At the end of the road, in the middle of a stage
highlighted by the light of broken reflectors
she found the cracked and agonizing statue
I used to take care of long ago.

Everything seemed nicer back then
yet everything remains unchanged
-the ghostly audience, the screaming symphony,
and the red tears falling down the statue's cheek-
This sadness shrine is intact
and it's still as appealing as it was back then.
Nostalgia finally caught up.