Somewhere, down the rhythms of my heart beating ecstacy,
I have managed to conceal a bag of cruciating images,
Where I see visions where we may not be together,
And I don’t want them to happen, neither the silence searing ache.

Among the spirals of thoughts my mind has weaved,
There is a shadowing figure, showing me a path of darkness,
But I keep yelling until I feel my life collapse,