what it's life from here

And i yelled for one more

One more bruise, one more fight, one more insult

There’s nothing more pleasant that to know yourself right

There’s nothing better than to know yourself lost

Silently goes the night, it goes and it ends

And the birds sing again, like there’s something worthy of hearing

Like the world is empty no more

And yet it is midnight

And it’s cold, and so is your voice

Sweet chants at the middle of a prayer

Memories trying to turn into ink

Ink and words

No chants and no charms will heal these wounds

Let me tell you

No prayers will be enough to heal this soul

For it is not lost nor broken

There’s no better feeling that to know you wrong