My heart o, how it aches
over and over without a single pause
to let me breathe
(Morrison;
Voice so perfect it could make and angel cry,
words destined to hit the centre of a soul)
and me less than half of nothing
living of small victories in this formidable life;
like when your eyes meet mine
or a chance of being of any help to this world
(maybe seeing and stranger smile)
...
However, it´s getting harder to oper the doors to the next day
I´m lost in the palace of my mind
Everything seems to be working
Everything´s fine
(Yet I slowly die inside)