Silent cry

The notes of the piano were like daggers in my soul. The fantastic voice was a reminder of an old failure I thought was for ever forgotten and I felt bad. And then her voice came out the handle to save my time, to save my day and mind.

Sometimes I feel like I was blind. Sometimes lost memories come ahead from far behind . . . they come to hunt. And then I scratch my soul with a desperate feeling and a silent cry comes out of my brain but not my mouth. . . it comes to eat. . . it feeds from me. . . it feeds alone and free.