IRC-Galleria

Is is too late to go in peace, I wonder how
how these things did start anyway
Maybe too late to find a way, when the
trail of grief is marked with memories

I believe - in everything I see, every
second is a miracle for me
I believe - after sunshine comes the
rain, and when it's pouring down
the only thing I feel is pain

I walk alone through shapeless dreams
my only home is the wasteland that I cross
I close the door and turn the key