Once I got to witness a murder
Blood spattered sheets, it was still a dream
Would I have been reflected from the mirror of
when darkness well kept in my lifeless home?
But so much changed since then
when days still stretched into sleepless
So much changed since then
Honestly, they will flee and I did always disagree but now I am losing
to something that in a long run will disappear
The things you fear are always for real and you are losing yourself
past nightmares bow to none
How could one care how far does the bird fly when its passing by is so irrelevant?
How could one care
how fast does the wind blow when he's still trapped inside these four corners?