War

Little ghost, you are listening

Unlike most you don't miss a thing

You see the truth

I walk the halls invisibly

I climb the walls, no one sees me

No one but you

When I fall down I always feel like this thought sweeps in my mind that my flight can be the last. I know that you listen to me, watch me. Maybe you don't make a deduction, but this is not your fault.

You know that human can not fly, but everytime then I flap my wings and break away on a Bart's roof – like on that day, when I've died for you – I want to proof an opposite. But I can't cause you don't see them.

Sometimes you help me retrieve my wings, when everywere is an empty space, and I realize that I have only you in whole world. I've surrounded by thousand, but most of them are blank except you, full normally are stand out. And this is one of that things which hasn't a root. It is. And a chain of logical reasonings can't be explored.

I feel that I need some help but at the same time I want to fall down again and again, deeper and deeper, trusting only this wind beneath my wings. When I fly down I feel my blood in the veins. I've never felt myself alive enought to be so near from the death. They say that feels can be more bright and all life is sweeping before my eyes. It is true, John. I watch everytime what I've survived and all of this like a fake story.

When I see Him I always ask myself is somebody rules this world? The fate unites me and Him, something invisible pushed me on a roof on that day when He's gone for ever. And I was facing Him all the time when I fell down. Awful. Wonderful. Alive.

And then I've seen you. It's amazingly how strange was condition. Just an accident allowed you and me to meet and become Us. How much we've seen together. And for only one moment I started to believe that I will never make another one step from the bluff.

You don't like my flights. You know that I make them in my mind and you decry me your silence and stern sight. Everytime when I open the window and stand on the cornice. Everytime when I make a step and release my wings. I think that empty anything is everywhere. And I feel alright. But when I return I see your face and understand that someday I will get over.

"Morphine or cocaine?" - you asks everytime looking in my eyes. Forbiding but no talking. And then you're looking on the needle.

I close my eyes and see nothing anymore. The world is changing and the sky is like made of glass. John, you can walk across the Heaven in my world, my Palace! You may answered but the wind was too strong and your words are carried away. I can't hear them.

"Don't worry, my flight won't be so long" - I answer. Making the final step.