I'm into the dark bloom
I cried for the doom by an obscene colostomy
do not dare to ask whose

I just shall not answer in my mask of crystal
I sniff my pain
I shout my regret
but, could I give this guilt a culprit or a name anyway?

The lines of fear start to turn out my brain
even if it is going to devour me
let me be mysterious
even if you know what the plot is
Is the light a fool?
Or just am I being the silly mime?
I disintegrate on the void of their heart
My head creates non-existent memories before my disease  
but at the edge of the lame time
who I am to blame?
Just lose you in the deepest ditch
where the ache is not drilling my walls
just the silence of my biggest penumbra counting my clock’s sand.

Realistically, I do not have a home.
Realistically, all I have are dreams.
But in my dreams, there is more to see.
A purpose.
A life worth living.
Cause you see realistically, I am not alive, just living.
Realistically, i am not worthy for anything except for ignorance.
Trapped in a body, mind lost, soul bound.
Tell me god, where do I find my way out.
In dreams I tell you my child.
Because in dreams, that is where you can find.
The god you search, not here, not alive, in your dreams.