that I think of now, These days these nights, And in my eyes the world has lost its color, These days are like, Another early morning, Sleepless distant and longing, Light
all that I think of now, These days these nights, And in my eyes the world has lost its color, These days are like, Another early morning, Sleepless distant and longing, Light
wind below the moon The light that create shadows The dark beyond the eyes: I sat before myself I looked above below I embraced my living self Doves and birds, gras and
his mind like a midnight tide, and stood firm against its insistent siren call. And upon that arid field of war, the sentinels of light and shadow spoke