I wandered in the woods trying to find my way,
It was not easy even though it was a bright sunny day.
My hands searched for yours,
For that touch was one of those cures.
I went back in time with just a peck of a touch,
How we used to talk;
Without talking much.
How those burned red hairs used to take my breath away,
And how each eyelash cut right through my heart.
And now I am standing,
In the woods of dark,
the gloomy forest that makes my hands shiver,
Of fear.
Not of what’s going to follow,
Life or death,
Or reachin’ where I yearn to.
It fears of never feeling what it has felt.
And will forever love to feel,
The warmth of your hands,
Which gives me a thousand deaths and a thousand lives,
The touch of those hands,
Which can brighten the darkest of nights,
Which makes me feel,