Pushing countless times the same button, for nothing. There is nothing new , there is no one at the other end of the line. As a broken arm , the same button is pressed endless.. but you are not there.I blinded you and now I am asking you to show me the color of the horizon and where is the rainbow. I turned you deaf and now I am asking you why are you not  hearing  when I beg for forgiveness . I took away your love , I slaughtered your visions and now I want your rhymes back. I killed you so many times and now I want you breathing. I forgot you so many times in the deepest pain and now I am asking for your mercy. I was your perfect hangman and now I want back the life. I was a sinner and this was supposed to be the perfect novel of our imperfect lifes.  I was asking for a new pen for  a blank page but there were already all the unwritten words of what I was and what we were. And no space left to say what we were supposed to be somewhere in a lost future. I am sorry.

          There is no magical pencil to put back the happy smiles on our faces and all we can do is to throw a grin of despair and suffering.Pain is our last common feeling and the last memory we share. No hope , no dreams , no future  - here comes the dark again , surrounding our last moments. Faith – an empty feeling , poor consolation for the acute sense of end, so close and near to us. The lost colors  of your eyes , the missing smell of your wet skin ,  the vanishing echo  of your laugh – all mixed in your disappearance.  Sorrow and mourning is all left behind in the twilight of what we were – supposed to be the ones of the future  and remained just sadly unforgettable ghosts of the present.  

          How I am supposed to beseech for your forgiveness when I am nothing but an shadow of an tragical past time? How I am still begging  for an wanted miracle when there is nothing but empty space , no speakable thoughts and we found a thousand words of hate and none for understanding? When dreams proved themselves to be nothing but cruel disappointments , why I am still dreaming? We share no longer any ideals and our future is just an black hole sun, a dark bloody sunset… why I am still wondering if there is still an ..”if” or “ maybe”? And I was a silent thieve of your sunny happy hopes , why I am still hoping? How I am still daring to look after your mercy? 

             An inexorably feeling that these are the last days of our lifes  is coming. Wake me up when this world ends. Maybe the next one will be the perfect one which I missed and screw up so badly now. I still am a dreamer..