I see her with my own fearful gaze, looking back at me,
a little puzzled, a little suspicious.
I stand alone at this empty terminal, with no one else,
but her. Who is she? I wonder.
But I have wondered. What does she know?
I thought I knew, the meaning behind her name.
But that has all vanished through time, lost in
empty spaces. I count the hours. I wait.
I wait to be taken, with no destination in mind,
no way up from these grounds. I wait.
She blinks and waits. She is waiting for me.
Waiting, waiting! I waited in my yesterdays!
I still wait to be remembered. I am slowly forgetting
my own beginnings. There is no time left.
Each step I take brings gusts of unexpected winds.
I do not understand these signs, nor the arrows pointing
at me; not one bears my name.
She continues to gaze. How do I tell her I am lost?
I look at her face. I still see the blossoms of youth –
life has not yet etched its scars.
Beneath my surface, I am bare and cold, like these grounds
I stand on. There is no destination waiting for me.
There is no love calling my name.
I fell for too much, too many. I must choose between
fire and words. I cannot wait anymore.
I look at her once again. I see my reflection on broken
glass, scattered all along these empty tracks.
There is still time, she tells me, to play with words.
to run through fire, to leave a trail to remember.
There is time to be remembered. Do not count the hours,
nor wait for a train that will never arrive. There is still time –
do not wait any longer!