I have been dwelling in a corner of myself for a long time Only let the light in when I need it I walk out of it too only when I need it Then there was the old wind friend coming by persuading me to let it through the corner said the memory of the good old times would come through without I am knowing it I punched a few holes and the memory of wind did come through Before I know it the wind becomes part of my corner Not sure I could hide in my corner any more lights and winds of good old time come at ease so I am soaking in them