To fight or not to fight?
Please make up your mind

The sun won't ever help you, it only
Make you see
Take me to your new house that you just
Built on the tree

Show me the way to your door
My little pink squirrel

The night is fruitful
and it stretches on forever
with no light or voice to vie
to me the darkness provides
to me it never lies
my mind becomes calm and agile
like a figure in the caricatures

so I diligently fantasize the time
who speaks to me through the ticking of the old clock
who paints the dusky room with ink that darken every second
who puts a tranquil aura on items that touches my skin
who proudly reveals its presence over every other elements
who is the now, the ever, and the everlasting end

I disappear under the shade
Nobody ever knew my name
All you had to do was wave
And I would silently break the pane