Too many choices, too much temptation,
too much lack of glory, too much deviation...
All I asked for, was a December without masks,
the greatness of a today with no specific idea about tomorrow,
a midnight talk about all our dreams dissolved in smoke,
and a bittersweet promise,
about a non-existent forever.
But, it's too late now,
because beyond the dying dream,
there was just a love that came in winter,
and will leave with the melting snow.
Now listening: My little Phoenix
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