Let all the green leaves be mineas long as the trees define shades created by their limbsfor the soil made with victimsof atrocity's vileness to redeem the fragileness

I feel like a real dead one: having neither blood to bleed nor any flesh or bone to feel the scars; yet I want to hold on to my spirit.

A farewell to my shadow is not my death; it’s my rebirth in darkness.

I love to chase my shadow to feel how it rests in the dark.

That’s not me.That’s my duality!

As I keep on runningthe sun goes down kissing me Good Nightwith those twilight-lipsAnd in the dark,moonlight becomes my night’s transporton which I ride on behind the mountain trails

Lightning hides the colour of night