Walking the Tightrope by Black Mirror
Listen
the hiss of silence
that remains after the screams
of that ghost that no longer shows his face

Walking
through the desert
of pleasant indifference
no pain no grudge

Now I feel the ice of my winter on my skin
the fire of my summer
the tremor in my veins

Timeline has lost its endings, no tails to choke on
line is dot, and is my ground
walking the tightrope

The mountain
we had to climb
now gives me beautiful landscapes
to fly over with you

Sometimes
your hand, close,
other times
The ground you step on
isn´t underneath me

Now I feel the ice of my winter on my skin
the fire of my summer
the tremor in my veins

Timeline has lost its endings, no tails to choke on
line is dot, and is my ground
walking the tightrope

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