I'm not, what I believed to be.
My face is the grimace of a drowning ghost,
Submerged by memories.
My orbits look hollow and blank.
My chest is reigned by autumn’s breath.
Hosting nothing but the shards of barkless ebonies.
All these embodied shapes seem like strangers to me now.
Thieves that stole my youth...won't hurt me again.
Ranked like mute sentinels, set in naive reveries.
Your chants are the cries of a thousand dying birds.
Your rigid javelins in my side I wear
And on my back a grove of willows appears;
Withered and parched, each with a hollow trunk.
For as long as I am able to save my transparent heart,
I won’t let you ruin the most precious part of me.
The pattering of the rain,
Is the soundtrack of my life.
I am a lone wolf, survivor or beast?
But I have never been companionless.
When I cried there was someone who cried with me.
When I lost, there was someone who lost with me.
We were comrades in misfortune.
Hurt companions for a lifetime.
Late at night we're driving through this town.
Together ... but both alone.
I looked into her eyes and saw
Nothing but dying dreams.
Suddenly she grabbed my hand
And I could feel her cold fingers around mine.
We drove right through the middle of the storm.
Me and my best friend, named solitude.
The eyes saw an empty street.
Our shivering bodies felt two silent hearts.
The wind sent us some yellow leaves
And what we got was a blue story.
A story about rain.
A story about the whirling sky.
A story about dreams and struggle
And this neverending longing for freedom.