The wind is carrying
the dreams of the life
that we should have had.
When the air brushes
against...
The wind is carrying
the dreams of the life
that we should have had.
When the air brushes
against my skin, nostalgia
takes over my mind,
and all of my current
thoughts of moving on
are replaced with memories
of the times when we
refused to believe
that our end would
ever be near.
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