Sitting on the desert bench
while the wolves watch fear of you face
Stones are the softest place where I kind of rest.
It all seems like fish net.
Beside the burn sun, you still have faith.
Hours come and vanished as the waves.
I hear a sound of the door that could calm my thirsty endless way of living.
Opening my eyes as a hungry believer.
Founding out the state of mistress.
I am a slave of the human nature, maybe not the bravest one,
Staying half in the middle,
in both sides that make me crash.
Getting hurt by the evil sand
Tread and battered by the abusive empire,
who takes over the soul feeling the most superior,
having no idea how low they are.
I' m a warrior with no aims
A hawk without wings.
Inside darkness death I survive
Needing strength to finish my ride.