The Wordless Tune...

From the right corner of her sight, she sees 11:11… From the same side of her mind, she wonders…

From the soul full of hope,
why is she far?

From the sweetness of the heart; the storm of the stranger’s mind…
From the lightness; fireflies in the bowl of night…
From the world she used to adore; the reality she still avoids…

Why is she still far?
From the man above,
and his words in the blueness of the sky…

It’s 11:18… She is still mute…

S