Within the room of consultation I seek my refuge to you.
I asked your advice and nod to your prescription.
It was white coloured one,
With a wooden table, and a pair of chair for those who are in the talk.
A well blooming pink flower stands in the corner,
Sends the accent of roses through the air that cover us talking.
In the room of consultation I admit all my hesitations.
The doubtful feeling inside my chest,
Growing colder as time passes,
Make it harder for me to taste the fresh air.
In the room of consultation I tell you my secret.
The greatest one in which my spirit, my hope, and my sorrow so romanticly tangled.
I let out all the grievances of loosing the most wanted dream.
The hard feeling of seeing the people you love, off sailing.
In the room of consultation I look for medicine.
To ease the pain within which I am struggling.
My restless heart aching,
Echoing the sound of it’s moaning.
In the room of consultation I seek you.
Hoping you’ll show me the way to see the sun once again smiling,
That you’ll hand me hand to get a better breathing.
To you I seek refuge.
To you I come anyway while silently crying.
Cause I’m sure,
Talking to you need no words arranging.
Looking for Your Benevolence,
July 23rd, 2017