In a past whose memories seem unforgettable made me think of the day when I would wait for the best of nights to dream again in the best of ways as if a silhouette would identify you as more than a queen.
Nothing would make sense if the dream that has not yet arrived but which I know a priori will arrive someday does not reveal to me if you still love me, it is impossible for me to continue living behind the old condemnation that the dream so longed for is moving further away on the horizon of an old hope.
Without the dream arriving, I am completely convinced that you are lost in the existential abyss of a love that breathes death for not having me, if in a point of convergence that kept the doubts of our love gave us the certainty that we needed each other more than the moon needs the earth, then I know that your heart is dying for me.
Before the breakup, for sure there was that point in which the end of our love was something more than an unpleasant event, because of the way things happened I would dare to say that there were external agents that ended with the garden we had cultivated and that the flowers one by one died in the afternoon.
Our love can be recovered as long as you, like me, think about how we were able to build our love, remember that our love grew in our hearts innocently, and if someone destroys our feelings it is because it was someone else who filled the world with people who without conscience make each person take their own path without a fixed direction, just like you did.
One day the longed-for day came when the evening got dark, I went to sleep and I could dream of what I had longed for so many times, in the morning I woke up and remembered everything as I had dreamed it, in the dream it was revealed that you still love me, and that every beginning has an end, and every end has a beginning.
It came back again and love was born, again the sun shone again, and when I least thought it you appeared, as pretty, beautiful and elegant as the queen who was at the end of the recent dream.
