Melt in my arms
Drip of salvation
I too long for more than this

It's hard to see the colour
In a world which is fading
The sky is becoming gloomier
The ocean has lost its way
The bright city lights no longer stand out to me
They seem as dim as they are fake
The smell makes it hard to see the colour too
It gets stronger by the day

It's hard to see the colour
When people ignore others in pain
Our dreams have been forgotten
Maybe our world has gone insane
Just prescribe another pill
And see if things really change

I find it hard to see the colour
In a world that is so negative
Our world is falling apart
Yet we all seem to stay the same

How will you skip your own game now
In which once I lost my whole world?
How much illusions you will create more to avoid your own self?
I screamed for justice
I screamed for justice
I screamed for justice
Behind my every laugh
For my all tears
I didn't repress
To make her smile.

There he stood outside the windowsill waiting for the wind
to whisper in her ears, his soft call of her name
heed the faceless man, and there he stood, outside the windowsill.

Her soul awakens and her hand in her chin
fresh from the bathe of her blood. There Avernus and
faceless, standing outside her chamber waiting for the woman to fall asleep.

The faceless man then wanting to reside by her side,
softly lulling her into death, prickling her thumb with a needle of life and death
through the parallel of his world and hers — there he stood waiting for his muse.

He grows slowly and deeply, his stomach churning; savoring
her blood in his mind, he waits until she falls asleep.

Her eyes wandered through the thin port outside her room —
the trees harshly peering through her window,
it is as if, they were telling dark tales in the midnight dawn of the night.
Avernus then sang in his native tongue; his muse terrified at the sight of him yet there was
comfort between the wind and the chilly night outside her window.

“It’s cold outside, why are you standing there?” She called out.

The dizziness of the lifelong receded yet; my anxiety of being is all raging! In me, mortality is ash-gray and the idea of ceda is constantly frightening! My years seemed to fall fast and I have to leave this land! Mile treasures to sweep beneath me pile up: fragmented leaves of petals - I should be a living tree in a dying ray of fire and not cry out my uncommon selfish pity! Sadness bribes and as a volcano, there are hardly any pleasures in existence!
 
My blind moles-nights are lit by cheering skies even more so the spike of despair is stabbing me more and more! Perhaps you, as a lone Robinson, have seagull sighs and the grains of sand in the bribed Nihil deserts; and why is there an earthly voice that cannot answer to the immortal Universe, when you already feel: the great He is standing by you ?! Your inner adventure can't end this way either!
 
Your flaming presence holds in itself! - Caressing the stigma of pain and fear of creation! You can imagine the veil of Maya being torn off and he sees back with bitter lust on the Edenic altars of earthly immortals: you could be immersed in vain in the starry Infinite! Fearfully keeping his secret in the black chasm-deep; crystal gems of dried salts will burn in your mouth, even as your prison you will be locked in your snail shell forever! You may know for yourself: your insatiable restlessness generates thrombosis bombs in the catacombs of your heart.