Things past

"So you run on fields with wind. Again. And you love. You love as much as you have the first time. You are as young as before. As naive. Is it important whether they do not see you? Whether life is a red red rose does not depend on the bees, nor on the butterflies"

"The way back.. If you come back not understanding why.. And the place you should go back to does not exist anymore. Sometimes one looses everything, when one aims for everything at once. And you are left with only memories of hopes. To rot where you hide away"