War, I rearranged your letters,
And I found out...

Lord
You are not the sun across the mountains...

Oh moon, full with pride,
Strolling through the sky at night...

You that flutters in observance
From up, an olive tree...

To fall asleep in the bed of your arms,
with your chest pillowing my dreams...

To be just me, that's all I yearn to be.
But who is this me, whom I want to be...

The songs we sing
are nothing but notes...

Sitting upon a piles of dirty clothes,
I can't distinguished...

They said, a piece of advice...
"Write with your heart&quot...

I cannot find THAT
which I've been searching within the hays of time...

Tip toeing 'round a tree of thoughts,
the one that has spheres like planets...

On Christmas times, the stores become like church:
Too crowded, full of prayers, and of songs...