.....

there are other world to sing in... 

The weather started to change. The sky turned red.
Along with the changing winds, my frame of mind took most exceptional changes.
Each month, and each year I call as “drowning blossoms.” I could feel the wind,
very intense, very hard, and inquiring. Always forcing me to turn back, to
face, and to consider the times, I have flushed through rigidly. The arising
sun each morning looked at me reluctantly. The earth on which I moved draw
sings to capture my soul in bounds, I have broken myself. It all caused me a
state of intense helplessness and agitation. No matter how much I moved forward
with life, things recall my name on every step; I may try until ends but the
past that has vanished years ago never died inside me. It was still there
making and causing the pain to run through my veins like a dreadful stiletto.
Its sharp edges tore my corpse into pieces and bits, aching with regretful
sings of life, dragging the marks of fate clearly engraved; lying to demolish
all what is left. Life for me has always been like a red light, all stops.
Thinking this all I stepped down from the roadside and the screams of onlookers
filled my ears. There was a smell of burnt rubber. I was lying fifteen feet
away and blood all over me, blocking my vision. As I begin to let go I thought
of all the red lights in my life, and finally this was the last one to go.