Tracing shadows with the powerful hand of Fortuity  
Watering paper roses with tears
Inscribing verses with the sharpest knife
That cuts through the heart of me
Grieving, yet not daring
To show my fear

Sorrow’s quietly weeping and knows not why
Listening to murmuring voices
Speaking from eyes that smile and cry
Like flames in the wind
Burning ceaselessly
Without choices

Lending my being to all impressions I feel
Surrounding this spirit of mine
Standing open with a bleeding heart, which kneels
To the murmuring voices
Without choices
In kind