29/06/2021
*SUNSET*
'Why do we fall?'
asked a young-skin old-hearted man to himself!
Why do we fall?
He had this question while the sun was going down, the city going back to its home.
At the time when birds fly back to hide, where clouds are so weak that the Sun pierces through;
At the time of him stumbling upon his own thoughts, when the music is at its best;
When the thoughts of him are let loose, with no ends.
'Am I still falling?'
Knots have turned into a loop, not tied up but stressed like hula hoop.
I'm not trying to be poetic here, it's only the Sunset and the birds...
He tends to hide when he is in his downs,
Here he smiles, that young-skin-old-hearted man
thinking of the sunrise.
He was falling...Knowing he'd rise!
