Why does it have to be so hard?
Being fitting in the castle again, again,
and again.
The vicious circle.

Attempting to shut down the part of me
which it's made who I am
but fiercely intrigued.

You wouldn't
understand that in art and in our lives
what possibly most vulnerable is
An elegant, riveting and haunting inquiry
into tragic, damaged and heartless in the state of mind.

One for surrender,
and the others
is non-existent
If there's the other way around
the possibilities for salvation comes up with it.

Where are you standing up on?