Amid the fire of my fear,
Amid the flavor of a wounded child,
I stand foresaken my lonesome tear,
Of a heart singled with eyes real blind.
Amid the fingers cold as ice,
And the eyes sleeping for endless years,
I release my heart withdrawn in disguise,
And whisper a song in the dead ears.
The wound seems so strange and scary.
The wound seems far away from earth,
As an old mystery dim striking fairy,
Of the death's life and it's birth
Darkness must have wandered in my brain,
To write the unwritten on papers to trust.
But nothing can change my unstoppable pain.
The night I gained everything I had lost
