When the mist gaze her eyes onto one soul...
He'll be runnin' out the symphony of the expurgated soul...
No one livin' a good ol' life...
Yes there are no one, no nothing ever felt like these...
These hollow body which conjured on the pool of green...
them...them...them.... things...things...things..
Thus who feels...Thus who heard...
Even the wall of the crippled one would like to contribute
her little smile on the these (meaning and soul)less works...
no one knows how to read this words...
how to define and to infiltrate it into one soul...
hands won't stop walking, feet won't stop "ticking"...
These reversal keeps enduring it own instability of "His" pleasure...
"Lies"...bored to hear every single words from thy mouth...
Please, can someone just define,
and understand my words from this uncontentious and unconscious state of my mind...
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