Hold

It almost seemed colored green
that little reminder of hope and melancholy
but as time goes greying
in front of a barred window where filtered few rays.

Rustled the branches, almost leafless,
the wind call, as if you were to go towards the house,
transported gently.
The stone trail was floating in the middle of the pitch,
deep and dark.

Slowly turning whitening, discolor, disappeared, rang ...
"Tic ... Ton" emptiness.
How can you do if these trees want you to kidnap,
bind with roots and carry it with their ... as defender yourself?
Walk with step indifferent observing nothing.
A fire burns grazing, the grass takes a part of me, I walk away and I run away ...

Nothing can keep me, no one can hold me.