It's harder to talk when you only have two minutes left inside of your heart; it seems to be crying silently, but the tears are still there.
The tree I was climbing all along started to feel worn out as well and so was I.
The bark started to go gray, and the leaves started to turn into dust. I was about to fall back into the pit of where I was in the beginning: lost and unfound. I didn't want to be there, but It wasn't a lie either.
It is rumored on top of that tree is the key to every knowledge or truth: it is the way to which you want to go, but I didn't succeed.