There are trains that come and go in the same train station every day. In some of them I get in, in others not. But there are few that I just like to watch from this bridge of love… I know that they go to you, a total Stranger apparently for my mind, but a miracle of love for my soul and a real bless for my body.
It’s hard to resist to the temptation and not to travel when I would travel. Especially towards you. It’s hard to just watch and listen the whispers of the wind when I would rather talk. It’s hard to wait for the right train when I would just jump full of joy in the first one, knowing where I want to go. It’s hard to respect the soul’s right to remain silent when it already knows why, but it fears.
It’s hard not to cry like a child when losing my patience, it’s hard to watch the doors to the old house closing, it’s hard to see how the last candle extinguishes. It’s hard to stay in the dark when waiting for the sun. It’s hard not to pass by your door like I used to do before, it’s hard to let it be when I would just do it. It’s hard to just feel it, when I would also live it. It’s hard to believe when I fell like dreaming.
It’s hard to keep it inside when I would just shout it out from the rooftops. It’s hard to leave when there is no other place to belong to. It’s hard not to choose the easy way out, when there are hundreds. It’s hard to missing you when I would just love you.
It’s hard, Stranger… it’s hard…