Walking on the street in November night
getting closer to the nature
only rustling leaves chat with me.
Everything is changing and
technology are progressing quickly
but drive away the remnants of humanity
Only my house full of bright
For others, there is no life in them
I am the wild and free-spirited bird
They are people sit "dead" in their "homes"
getting closer to the nature
only rustling leaves chat with me.
Everything is changing and
technology are progressing quickly
but drive away the remnants of humanity
Only my house full of bright
For others, there is no life in them
I am the wild and free-spirited bird
They are people sit "dead" in their "homes"
reflection of the short story "The Pedestrian"