Collecting the dirt,
a speechless drama unfolds...
When saline drowns the lips,
my words tremble...
Sitting here on my bed,
Looking out my fogged up window...
Weep every don.
All the translations were fake...
I was not afraid of the clock, ticking,
dividing your attention. A guarded...
Unshackled, the pallor moon
was lying still, in a white...
Art of dying
comes, after...
It was a free fall.
A plot seems to thicken...
Trying to bring the change
with bleeding silver...
The thirst will know,
the river was there...
Dreams are taller than rainbows...
I am a rose
the rosy red rose...