The Strings.

A wise girl once said

That, someday, all the strings inside of us will break.

I must say, my dear, that the same will happen to you and me.

Take a look at what I am right now,

It's happening for a while,

Every single day another string breaks,

Until we got here.

Only one string stands in one piece,

But it must be known:

It is not just a string,

She's a rope.

My rope is strong,

My rope is all I've got,

My rope is what takes me further.

She is everything to me.

And I'm all hers,

She holds me like a puppet,

She takes me wherever she wants,

Holding me by the strings.

She plays me just like a violin,

I'm not that good,

But when she plays my strings

Nothing but good could come out of it.

So I hold on to this rope,

And I swing to the sound of strings,

Hoping that one day our strings will be one knot.