I still hear the sound of the melody you used to carefully strim for me
during shiny morning, if I had a power I could command the world to spew your existence again.

I fail to get over the joyful
sweeter sound,
I can't close my eyes, your shadow approach
me like the darkness of sunset.

You were an aesthetic song , performed by summer pigeons. Now I'm alone in
my life of despair just to watch the sun
everyday dissappear,
there is no escape gateway from the inner part of real pain.

The journey
ahead is bold, my shield is weaken by
your inexistent anymore. Now I fail to attain
the real existence I'm trounced my
weaknesses are toppled.