Nostalgia.

Rhythm which bellows in the magic of vibration.With every key a note plays. I see orange, rays of sunlight. Tiny shadow of human carriers.

Feel the breath of the wind, Curtains come alive. Happy thoughts, i reverberate. They are precious remnants of the past. They call them memories.

A wave of heaviness, you’re trapped in that melancholia. Few seconds feel like ages. But you smile, a slight smile. It stretches not as much. Not now, not too soon.

They rejoice, they won’t come back physically but their presence, i always feel. They’re there to remind. To torment, to destroy, to learn or be strong.

 

 

 

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