You go, me alone. You change, I defend myself tirelessly. You disappear in the swallow of the earth, I search for you every day. You do not seem to care, I make friends with hurt. You found a replacement, I tried to heal my heart. You're happy, maybe that's one formula after I pray. But when the heart is almost recovered, going back to my corneal is the path you choose. And the next plan may break the feeling of being used to expectations..