ah wind classy soaring up the sky
i hear your swirling voice going so high
high beyond my sight and cloud

the hand tries to reach out to the moon
goes as far as it can
to touch the clouds
yet it grasps only thin air

oh dear god, why it is so cold?
why is it, so harsh here
make me float in soap
bubbles of magical air
moonlight air


it is a fragment, i lost all the rest of the poem, couldn’t finish it due to having other duties to attend to at the given time. never happened before, but…


it doesn’t feels alright.