Life passes before my eyes,
Still I see only lies.
Ruling my life with an iron hand,
Most of the people already dead.
Being, believing is just an answer to my riddle,
While most of them are just stuck here in the middle.
The fires of the stones burning the eternity away,
Trees regarding the passage of time in disarray.
While innocence is burning from within,
And a child bleeds to begin,
I see dark clouds pass me by
And I realise our time depends on our hate to die.
A quality I dare not share
For to walk it leaves a foul air.