In the shadows of darkness, I am lost.
Echoes of whispers cries,keeps getting closer.
Faith as little as mustard seed keeps burning.
Yet in darkness, I tremble and thirsty for light.

My soul seems to hung on tree,
Yet my hope seems to sink into the underneath abyssal
Where slavery is over the victory.
And life at the edges.

No escape room for the Weakers mind.
Unless the whispers of the wise is audible.
Am fighting while drowning,
For my head's up at miniscus.

In this shadow of darkness,
I am thirsty to reborn.
In this shadow of darkness,
There is lust to fight.