Я ищу.
I do not curse you, upon these distant shores,
Among the sands that keep unbridled stories,
Yet one day, when there's tarnished silver in your hair
When days come much to bear, mind'll start to wonder
If memories you cling to oh so viciously tell you of you.
Or if one distant sunny day you just imagined who
You might become, believed yourself, and went upon a journey.
But story almost over, doubts will start to crawl,
Are you the author? Reader? Or have you tarnished silver for the role
That left you... nothing? That told of someone else?
In front of empty theater, played to perfection, all your own.
Just not of you.
When time comes, do not seek the ocean.
You will not find the certainty in waves.
But not long left now. And do rejoice.
Upon these distant shores, I do not curse you.
Among the sands that keep unbridled stories,
Yet one day, when there's tarnished silver in your hair
When days come much to bear, mind'll start to wonder
If memories you cling to oh so viciously tell you of you.
Or if one distant sunny day you just imagined who
You might become, believed yourself, and went upon a journey.
But story almost over, doubts will start to crawl,
Are you the author? Reader? Or have you tarnished silver for the role
That left you... nothing? That told of someone else?
In front of empty theater, played to perfection, all your own.
Just not of you.
When time comes, do not seek the ocean.
You will not find the certainty in waves.
But not long left now. And do rejoice.
Upon these distant shores, I do not curse you.