A new origin

Outside everything's still the same, despite this oncoming tragedy.
Breathing is not like it used to be anymore. Wish that I could forget all the joy once here in my chest.

In the darkness, I know myself... and I'd rather keep all the bitterness with me and set her free.

Maybe the answer to the main question is create a new origin: a constant lie one day may be the truth...

Nothing lasts forever, but my own darkness...

92014

A subtle crack between universes has brought me here again.
Suddenly it disappeared... the only way to go back home...


Among roses and blood, she lies...
A new dawn... another night!

It's almost like a dream: in a plane crash, my soul suppress itself.
But not today! Time has been just a adornment in this life.


Look up... maybe there's still some hope for few...
Or it's not supposed to be?

Emptiness

Even without a sign I used to believe one day things would be different.
After all these years, I've learned not to wait such unreachable thing to happen.
(Some just don't deserve paradise)


Suddenly I could -- I've become listless and empty for everything I used to believe that was worth.

Now I've pulled myself away, you dare to see me!

(I have loved you so much that I fear there's nothing left in me)

Perception

I eventually have decided to believe (maybe accept) that every story has more than just one way of perception. And some fears really can disappear if we have enough strenght to face our own demons.

---

After all this disturbed vortex we went through, I dread I can be one of them.

Illusion

And all I can remember are faces without names, and names with no memory.

In the middle of the night, we were standing there and here. How could I think about something that never happened as it was such real?

In a silent night, screams could be heard coming from my frozen heart. But I am the only one sincerely listening...

I had a dream...


The most dreary dream is understand it won't ever be true.
The most painful thing is realize nothing ever was true.

Regret

There's no use scream how sorry I am for everything I'm not.
There's no use cry - and I do - my fears won't leave me.
For all these years I've become my own damnation.

Underneath

A hundred years may pass by, but I guess things won't change and what I feel will never disappear. Am I a different person? Absolutely. But this means nothing. I still carry all my shoulders can bear.

Walking in circles just to find her again has become my own doom.

How dare all of you tell me you love me if you did not even hold me into your arms?

One day unspoken lies will shatter apart and we won't need a disguise anymore...