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Contorted is my soul between the buzzies
of the one, that like me,
had already paid its own penitence
in a neverending fear of a time without time.
Agonizing mourned distress my mind,
fear of a peaceless past,
lost in the mind I'm wanderin' in the craving
that will bring me to the ruin.
A tenuous sound reaches my soul,
the omen of that dream I'll never ever live again.
Endless horizons open my mind,
teared by mourned and suffering.
Dark thoughts seems to fly away,
with continuous noises and blurried melodies.
