I looked to the sky to see what was lost.
To see the white dove in the sky.
Not bright enough to know what I let go of.
But bright enough to not watch it die.
I break listening to bird's songs of sorrow
Waiting for them to end, waiting for tomorrow.
No one noticed before, every single day,
That everything that passes,
Is slowly decaying away.
When everything turns to ashes,
We won't notice it in the air.
Although we continue inhaling,
Lungs are screaming in despair.
Such a sad Tragedy.