Ive travelled through many countrysides, but still I havent found what my soul is yearning for. Searching deep in the paradise and time like sand falls down from my fingers. My life is a neverending dream, Im waiting to be dispatched forever. Theres namely noone who could ever be akin to me, Im yelling and awaiting my echo to disappear. Black colour justifies exactly the state of my soul. Afterwards Im looking at its mirror receive nothing but desolation. Im alone like a pit from pendulum, still dreaming. Dead and wandering in a world of mourning and melancholy. I expect no salvation from heaven. I try abortively to recognize my identity, in a labyrinth of enchanted kingdom. Mysticism and nothing makes a difference.
abortively, namely, dispatched, mysticism, akin