Life is leaving me ... Who knows where the light leaves ... It stealthily moves away from me without saying where.
The same as a friend who leaves me without saying a word, who leaves me alone with me.
If I ask him: Where are you going, where? he smiles no more, placidly, continuing to leave who knows where.
I cry at him in anguish: Look at me here, alive, alive. Where do you want me to follow you? And with a faint laugh, "You're not me!" -sufferingly he answers me.