My buried friend

There is a taste
Someone's nervous
There are likes
Someone's grieving
There is story
Someone's suffering
There's a story
Someone's restless
There is hope
Something's forgotten
Love
And some are injured

In the end, I miss no more complaining
No longer waiting for each other
Why keep longing
If sorrowful like a parasite,
Which grows when broken and sad.

Your sweetness has turned sour
In the shadows of the past
What I can't take
Which is told as a story; sad.

Our story is a legend
About bitter,
About lightning.
Searing tears
Knitted continent
And live the orphans:
fatherless,
Not thousands.

Live as it is
Don't heed every hoarse call
That comes from the past,
What you don't need to remember when you were happy.
Cause I'm a cliché that you have to throw away
At the far end of the universe
So that no one can touch me,
The one that keeps the half taste
The one that crashed
The one that doesn't stick
The one that doesn't leave a trace
The broken one
The melted one
The buried.