Missing the Knights of the heights.

A bench in The Middle Of Life Waiting For Friends.

Always there. Confortable to hear. When I have tried to change it, it had not worked. Supposed roles we had all at our lives chosen from early life's morning to its deep night dreams. Many excuses for many choices.
Then friends, have gone, I was left alone surrounded by their words. Turn on the silence. Flow the love. Tap this polysoundy lonileness.