The passion dies from within, Mould of my grace fades away. And we could have chosen A different path of thoughts.
Unreserved talks have no point, Between us there’s not a ray of truth , And nothing is sacred with us, Life tears to pieces our world.
So I'm flying above the earth With the sounds of the storm. Despite the feelings inside, I prefer the original form
Of the life I've buried inside. So I choose loneliness instead. It’s becoming so hard to endure, ‘Cause on you depends my mood.
Beckoning – silence! I can hear your whisper, I feel as something sacred is born, But leaves keep falling down, And sky sends water. From day to day it’s getting worse and worse…