Of broken roads and bending ways,
I am looking for my escapade,
of unending conversations and unseen sunrays,
I am still looking for that escapade.
I am quiet and waiting for a start,
this last endings escapade,
and slow is the rhythm of the new life,
I walk on to that one wishful escapade.
I am listening to those hundred noises,
and looking for my silence’ escapade,
and violent is the thought of today,
while I look for that one escapade.
Wishing I could walk just one more time,
floating through that escapade,
and noises of my dreams so lost,
the tunnel to my escapade.
And yet I move on,
without my escapade.