I grew old alone, without you.
As a cruelt way to prove our love.
I kept many things from you, as I know you did with mine back int the old days.
Before the war and the dark, when the world was a bit lighter but still as complicated.
When the odds were all against us, but you were still here so there was such thing as hope.
I do not think I can follow you, I’ve asked myself often if a couple of steps, a change in the clock, whatever unexpected stuff coulda helped our situation.
Which was always dire by the way.
The winters have grown colder as I’ve grown older without your heat and your voice, which was music in itself.
I have your music of course, a strange piece that reminds of things I’ve never lived.
That sounds a little like your heart at night, and a little like something entirely different.
Soon they will come for me, and there won’t be more cold winters away from you.
One way or another, soon we’ll be together, I’ll go find you.