domingo, 30 de março de 2014


The sorrow under my eyes,
The spill from my skin...
The endless longing.
The borrow of my sin.

Clock goes forward, forward.
Please go backward, please backward.

Dragged to infinite of the future
The curse without cure.
Lament my misery
For it always come within.

Exist, exist the life of symphony
Credits to the author, my epiphany.

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