Lascia ch'io pianga

Good things are images that disappear from our minds. They are parts of us lost in the forest of habits. But the pain remains and describes what cannot be chosen. Maybe I don't want to forget maybe it won't happen I want to feel different. Only free. I remember crying because it's stronger than forgetting. But going is sweeter than staying. I don't want to live in fear of what comes from the dark or what I left behind. I am who I wanted to be even when it wasn't me speaking. They were tears to the moon always climbed as a prayer sculpting my fate. I proudly sigh a single leap into the drama not to let go of the emotions. So I follow my emerald-scented path wherever it may lead me. It's a promise to me to one another an oath a cry a sincerity a brave hymn. Strong. I believe. and I never forget.