This empty bed I get in every night
changed into a weird place,
every evening it looks more and more
like a field full of dead wishes and dreams.
The lonelier I am, the bigger it gets
and a number of victims grow each day.
And like it’s not enough pain for me,
I’ve started to plant all the possible reasons
like giant trees, thicker than jungle
made of my thoughts,
that guard and keeps me inside
the field of a fallen hero of love.
And yet again another night
I am standing alone in the middle of battle,
fighting with branches and plants
made of my silly heart and crazy mind,
left in eternal insomnia
missing somebody that doesn’t care.
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