A dark cloud sorrounds my heart,
I want to turn back the clock,
Go back to how it was at the start,
Re-experience it all block for block.

I know, its not possible, but my heart longs for these times,
It aches and twists, flooding my mind with pictures long gone,
How can I hold back this train of nostalgia?
Maybe a small message is enough to quench my thirst.

A small glimmer of light that can ignite my long faded flame,
But times have changed and it is not the way it was back then,
If I push it back I may loose myself fully,
The shell finally crumbling to dust.

I could feel it slowly burn out,
My pashions slipping away from my grasp as if brushed away by a breeze.
A breeze that started off gentle, tranformed into a whirlwind and hurrled everything away, leaving nothing behind.
Now, with yet another calm season there is nothing left, all that once was, swept away by the wind.

Turning to someone has left me barren, the same feeling over and over again.
"You dont understand me".
But how can someone understand me if I dont understand myself?
What a trainwhreck of nostalgia this is.

As he strolls through the forest, longing for distant skies,
he passes a stream that twists and turns with a playful splish.
Stopping and looking at the water, he comes to realize
that before of him swims a school of silvery fish.

Gliding down the stream with ease,
the sky above, the soul at peace,
they swim beneath the shallow tide,
while the silver waves keep up their stride.

And as he watches them below,
he cannot help but delve into sorrow.
The moonlight guides them to a new life,
while his ruthless tide still fights to survive.

So he continues his walk through the creaking giants,
seeking what once was dear to his heart,
yet he knows it would soon depart,
since he could only lend fate his reliance.