All the blues were statically gone to a scattered moment of tranquility. I was here before and I would always be here at times. The views and truth faded to a dark storm to create an imperfect state of being, and that is something real and unchangeable. All the thoughts, colors, people and places may fall under the same source of origin and replicate the same eternity. All the roads, streets, stars and nights turn to be the dark spot of illusion. There was nothing to be asked and answered.
