April. 4, 2006
Where are the birds in the sky
without its wing in air.
A breathless word would have no meaning,
If these lips did not whisper the untold story.
With every move the human heart makes,
With every inch that we stand tall,
With all the pain we conquer
The spirit grows deeper outside of the darkness.
And from each moment to the next,
From these special little memories we collect
In the melody of silence
We learn that what matters most
Are all the sweet nothings…
P.C.H.