My soul is desolated,
Illusions were decorated.
Reaper’s balsam becomes working.
Fissures are so much more cracking.
My small ghost is going wayward,
Life flies so fast, as hunting concord.
Destiny is swallowing more,
It will destroy a soul core.
Pain can not be neutralized,
All is going leave in past.
Just my memory is cross,
That is staying on my roars.
My loud cries can not be manned,
No one can with the help to stand.
My empty soul like glass is broking.
Just the wind in heart is walking.
