Sleepy...

So sleepy… The piano’s voice slowly whispers in pink notes. The crows pinch the old moon with their poisoned peeks and now it floats over the notes over the stars mille apart… So sleepy… Time is craving, climbing high seconds, feeling so old, dusty and cold, Can’t think about tomorrow I’m lost in fog… Flying on the moon over the pink cloud laughing out loud , making no sound…