The sun is slowly going down,
And summer breeze glides down my skin.
The moves of water calm me down,
The sounds of sax and guitar strings.

Amazing views and birds around,
I reach some joy and, maybe, peace
And while I stare at rosy clouds
I feel nostalgic bittersweet

Live even when you want to die,
When having strength to fight no longer
You gnash your teeth and want to cry
Because the pain is getting stronger.
When meaningless and silent strife
Has made your spirit deadly tired
And freedom from these chains of life,
Is very ardently desired.
When you cannot endure your pains,
Do not let death embrace your body.
The blood is icy in its veins,
Its tongue transfixes everybody.
The eyes of death are blank and cold,
They tear to pieces and devour.
Its ruthless hands so strongly hold
The reins of such enormous power.
When seeking peace, on the deathbed
To fall asleep do not endeavor.
Be open-eyed and look ahead,
Face troubles boldly more than ever.
With time the pain will go away,
To heal all wounds the time is able.
But if you choose the death one day,
You will be eaten on its table.
And being breathless, deaf and blind
With ground your body will be covered.
Fight for the life, and to your mind
Its beauty will be once discovered.

Every gust of wind invited a sense of peace into her non existent will to pretend she was okay. Stepping outside, the wind blew onto her face, through her hair, through her thick skin. For once there was a slim apologetic figure of beauty in the world. Alive for that brief gust of air, she apologized to the wind. She only felt apologetic to the wind and it was not her fault. Tired of being abandoned, she claims the wind will never leave her to feel uninvited to life's party.

You know, my friend, they say:
This world the beaty'll save.
Yes, for sure, it saves,
The beauty of the soul, not face.