Am I Wrong?

What is the space between us?

How many years or miles... 
Have I walked off?

Where is the path I painted?

When did I turned away
Far from that game.


May I, not run, 
Am I wrong?
There's no place to go
Beyond.

Thing should be done... someway different 
Different than we thought.

Have I been wasting footsteps?

Unable to decide... Am I right?


Is there any path to come back?

What will I find in there when I arrive?

May I, not run, 
Am I wrong?
There's no place to go
Beyond.

Thing should be done... someway different 
Different than we thought.


I might've been wasting heart-beats...
I might've been wasting soul-steps...


So, when did I become so blind?
Unable to find my path?

May I be wrong? 
Can I be right?


Far from the start started to rain
Drowning all I've held.

Might I return?
Should I come back?


May I, not run, 
Am I wrong?
There's no place to go
Beyond.

Thing should be done... someway different 
Different than before

LyraGothe,,

E-

A trip to nowhere, with someone I don't know...

To go so far away from home.

From the seashore my mind colours everything...

To rest so far away from here...

And I can't even scream your name

To call for you when

My mind is going down again...

I don't know If we're really there...

I cannot change

What I can't even explain.

In the time

I know not when.

In the place

I do not know where.

Now the mist

Covers everything...

The curtain has fallen

Over you and me.

Excuse me, darling, if you can't hear my voice...

Sometimes it feels I talk alone.

A freezing moment, to find out your cold hand,

To walk away and walk away...

And I can't even say I'm real.

Sometimes I'm not here

When you turn your soul to me...

In the time

I know not when.

In the place

I do not know where.

Now a mist

Covers everything.

The curtain has fallen

Over you and me.

Enter my mind
Leave us all alone
Do not hear what they talk.
Once I felt you.

Now I can't feel myself.
Agony takes my soul and says...

If you were here.

LyraGothe,,

Another dead tree

Dreadful, lonely memories I keep.
Still solitary, sad... Solitary as me.
I've taken fligh above a giant tree
Of Angel's feathers and Evil's leaves.

O, giant God who lies under my feet,
As I buried you, I was born in me.
I've taken my precious freedom to see
What's hidden behind all the beauty you hid.

I shout'd to something that shone in the sky,
And a haze appear'd in the soil, and the eyes
Still blind as you brought 'em here to survive
They still blee, 'cause they see all the misery we have.

LyraGothe,,

Growing up

When you're a child, you think that everything comes from a tree.

Then when you grow, you learn that you're the one who must sow that tree. Later, you know that tree grows from a seed. When you grow up a little more, you realize that the tree grows differently depending the season in which you've sowed it. Time after, you learn that not every soil is optimum for every tree.

And when you became old, you know that not everything comes from a tree. And you've wasted your time sowing.