My words has been reading by the def person
My words are noticed by that blind person
My voice has been shut down for myself pleasure
lost , still searching for myself
But all I can find is a black mirror reflecting all of my lies
I did cross the river by hiding from the tik of the time
I did trust in the rage to get me out of myself cage , in the first seconds I did find out that my cage is just a memory of revenge there's no need to get out of it
the demon who's in my room corner is whispering
Telling me things I admire about the night
He's Trying to turn my flame to the fire
He's trying to get a chance to get the same reference
His whisper is getting louder
He's waiting for me to talk
So he can see the ignite program
Lost
Found
Same as his main road
As long as my silent will keep his blind
i will keep my misery for my Mystery the beauty of silence always was an art but only the blind person who can understand the beauty of it ...