As dust in a forgotten room.

As the days keep going, the longing for you keeps growing.

I wonder how much, will it grow till I see you again;

Will I become a tower?, a light house?, an obelisk?,
or a tree, with many branches and lots of fruits to give you and to hold you with me,
in a quiet and peaceful time, my dear.

I look forward then, as I pray you to wait for the time for us to be.