as the violin dies

.
.
.
i die within
and here within this tiny deluded world I create, there prevails a glamorous rainbow

"come over" - you called out for me

I heard your voice, but step I did not - for tears of heaven I fear, so here I stay
in this warm sunshine of my earthly pleasure.

"Don't cry for me"

I - at least - no matter how foolish, pathetically foolish me - will always see the bluest, most glorious shade of sky even when darkness collapses onto my shoulder. Don't you know I have been blind? Tears blurred my vision away - What I see now is only the collection of carefully selected memories of what once was my happiest day under the sun.

"Don't feel sorry for me"

I - at the most - would cry a river on my way back from the 8 (freaking) pm class or 11 (freaking) pm meeting, in freezing winter breezes. At the very most, I would hide myself under the blanket and let my emotion take over. For no one is supposed to share these private moments I barely have with the facade of you...

Life is like this.
and so it is...
the violin dies
but there... somewhere here on earth, the music begins.
I'm only at the very start of our separation
Maybe I will never learn to smile truly
Maybe I will be able to laugh wholeheartedly tomorrow
Ultimately there is no such thing as a perfect farewell

will you wait for me?