What is left to rise (live, Live, feel... Feel... more, endlessly)

I'd like to visit those places
See those colorful sights
who pack and call my memories...
my feelings on the stories
of people who haunted it
Places i could get attached
because i would come with knowledge,
recognition, understanding
of what happened in the old time
the joys and the sorrows,
the struggles and the dreams
of those names who lived by
the houses and the streets
those places with a past
polished or damaged,
blunt or vivid
still oozing the emotions from the land,
that i could shiver lost on my own
burst for a while, entitled to rise
but with all there is to see, to feel
on the run, i won't stay, i'll just pass
to invigorate on the spirit,
the strenght of each place
and oddily, that's why it would feel
So good.


(it can be related to human beings but i don't apply it litteraly to human beings in real life, or it could be called loose manners, how that text can be misunderstood, or maybe that's what we all do our own way with places and people)