Oh, little goldfish,
leaning upon your throne of glass...

Your purity is my temple—
a spring, a crystal pool...

It was a song—
that reminded me...

Me and you
lover and foe...

They think they do not like me.
They doubt of my goodness to be...

There was always me loving you
no past, no future...

In the even scales
of fangs there are no justness...

In twilight
on the turning toe of...

It was raining.
Wind was straining...

How come is your absence more present than your...
How come world is suddenly this empty...

No one stands for the truth anymore.
Coward’s necks are back to their turtle shells...

I am alive though
life is a party I've been...