The Ending

You’re selling…
selling your suffering.
And trading everything for silence.
You’re left with your hands and perfect settings.
You give up your breath for a whispering.
Is it enough now.
Does it fit the screen?
Tell me you’re losing faith in something simple cause baby where I’m going…
confessions are not allowed.
And if you think there is another way, don’t tell me how.
You’re selling…
selling your melodies.
And trading every note for silence.
You’ll touch the neck, brush the body when deep down you know that it’s
breaking.
Go on try to fix the keys when you’re looking down or straight at the ceiling.
Tell me, did you have enough?
Can’t you see it’s a one-way trust?
It’s the last sequence before the ending…