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Maybe only music could rescue me in this heart...

What am I to do when the gladiolus cannot stretch...
this vase of loneliness anymore...

We sculpt our idols on our own
from the stone we carve and chisel...

We live together though
we die separately...

It was very musical though it was soundless.
everything in garden...

Horizon is the
conundrum of terminus...

Why is loneliness
so crowded...

The morning sighs in softest hue—
the sky has saved its gold for you...

How lonely is the flame
that burns for its own fire...

Only the mad
can wrestle the self...

Magicians rule with fear and lies,
but truth remains beneath disguise...

Only in chains
does freedom begin...