A Time Machine

Exhale into the cold spring air Fade away like melting snow Yet what remains is my despair An existence of a shadow To be the fool lost in the past Where joy abounds endlessly Or to drift aimlessly as an outcast Living out a cursed destiny Tracing the whispers of the wind I bid farewell to what will be no more The last touches of the air on my skin Before I head to a happier time before When it’s time to finally open my eyes Perhaps what awaits will be those clear blue skies