Drop by drop his sanity runs dry,
And vanity urges to pry,
Alas,
When there is a hope for peace to find,
Man becomes a weapon unwavering of gods' sign
and his silent glare ,
He becomes a grave ,
A mount of flesh ,
With no soul to save ,

I have never seen a dead Swan
-except on the stage
Swans must have a very special place they go to
-when their time approaches.

all the dreams faded
all the hobbies vanished
all the passion ended
And left me with an empty box
.
.
.
maybe to regain everything again
Or to find something new to gain myself back

A word that we want to happen in our lives.
Desire for perfection to feel the pride.

But the way you are makes who you are,
cuz with perfection one's true self is far.

this void is killing me
and i wanna join the crowd too
but i don't know why
i find peace in this emptiness...