Bhyllabus

I am the broken shell hiding in the mist of confuses, my voices try to reach the light that never exist. I saw the sun rising softly above my soul, trembling I said, you have warning all the land above the earth, but you never touch the endless winter in my heart.

Holding my breath so I can fell its burning not only inside the pain which I’ve created for my own self. I said its okay, but my tears still symphonizing everlasting requiem somehow. I set the sun on my pillow, still no warmth even in my dreams. I paint the rainbow endlessly so I make rain all the way.

But yes, those must happened. This broken mirror has to be the dust, since I can see no truth on its reflection. Yes the pain must exist since the broken silhouettes has attached on the shell.

And yes, I am the shell, I am the mirror…

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