Upon the perspective of the oppressive past,
the fragments of bygone prospects...

Is it, a struggle of a feather
to survive its yanking and flouting...

Is understanding, as ruthless as it is,
another version of satisfaction...

I have seen THE horror
of where the truth...

From the futile war
remains legions of mutilated hearts...

O my beautiful butterfly
you are not so beautiful after all...

I'm so lost in me
that only in you I can...

The moon is yet full
even when just half or non...

When I do not find your black eyes
everything founders...

They augment their lips with silicon smiles.
There is no solace...

One must see into
the others to become a...

If you hurt me, I flee away
behind the volcanos of despair...