Draw me a picture of your fantasy, carry your words gracefully, haunt me with treasures of weakness’ pleasures, remind me the memories we’ve gathered together.
How did your world turned this day? Why did your eyes turn the other way? Is that pity I see in your grateful eyes? Is that a smirk I see in your trembling lips? Is it really a sin to say the truth? Is it me that ruined your poor childhood? Did the moon never ceased in your room? Did your eyes spoke that you are doomed?
Although the mess you left has broken me inside, tied to the sides I tried to strive. Oh, my dear heart, has given up right from the start. Oh, my dear soul, weeping as it called. The agony of being me, has surpassed the tears of many. I never drawled out from my cabin of darkness and in the light I’ve become the tempest.