and I didn't. I did. A white dove sings to me in the dawn, old melancholies, things of the soul. They arrive with the silence of the morning, and when I go out to see her, she flies to her house. Where is my voice going? She doesn't want to listen anymore. Where is my life going to go out, if she is not with me? If she wanted to come back, I would go to wait for her, every day, every dawn, to love her more. She left with her sad song to another place, she left my loneliness as a companion. A white dove sings to me in the dawn, old melancholies, things of the soul. They arrive with the silence of the morning, and when I go out to see her, she flies to her house. Where is my voice going? She doesn't want to listen anymore. Where is my life going to go out, if she is not with me? If she wanted to come back, I would go to wait for her, every day, every dawn, to love her more. Copyright © 2020, New Thinking Allowed Foundation