Another year gone past,
another year about to start.
Do we still welcome the sun?

No matter how far we run
or how fast,
it just won't last.
What it is to perish in the face of spring?

Of all the gifts that misery can bring,
would there be enough rain
to empty my veins?
Can we still make it to the next war?

The angels looking down at the creatures God abhors,
Lucifer looking up from his hide,
smiling eyes filled with pride
at his brothers, in disguise of anger and hate.

At the dead-end, when happiness is the bait,
a petty choice between a truth and a lie,
let me choose to neither live nor die