The wold is too small to be able to find any lost love in there,
Nobody gets lost here.
Just as easy that they have appeared, people,
pack their baggages, and disappear, one in the fog, one in the mist, one in the wind,
and the cruelest disappears in the snow, ...
What remains is their footsteps,
and a memory, that once in a while, blows your curtains like the early morning breeze.