I bloomed because I needed to evolve. Writing was my way of getting comfortable with my own self. So bloom in every single way to become a better version of you, for you.
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The night is at its best And the moon is turning red I cover my body with my blood So the thief doesn't see me alive A thief that stole my soul And is willing to give it to his love The king of the south Whose scar is deeper than mine He has nothing but hate to give But the thief, the thief is in love
The night is at its best And the moon is a dark red I watch how the thief gives a bottle to the king A green bottle, a bottle of the woods I swear I've never seen such a lost soul before Where's mine, if it is not in that bottle? The king opens it To find nothing but pain And grabs his sword, painting on his lover A scar deeper than his
The night is at its best And the moon made a red sky I can't pretend anymore The blood of the thief is the blood contaminating My body and my scape The king screams, the king redeems He wanted gold, not love He wanted gold, not pain The thief is nothing but an useless grain Who can't love anyone but the king
The night is at its best And the moon is turning white Maybe this nightmare is ending Thanks to the king, I might get my soul back Little I knew he would kill his lover And the thief would die right in front of my eyes Little I knew I could have died But the king was blind The scar took away his sight And his life took away his love
The night is at its best And the moon is bright white The king has left Leaving me in the woods, not knowing I was there Looking forward to the thief Suddenly a cat griefs next to him That's the moment I knew The cat had my soul To live around and take care of the thief Because she loved him as it seems
The night is at its best I walked towards the cat She looks at me, tears in her yellow eyes And I knew she loved him She needed my soul to take care of him And I knew I was dead Because of the love she had for the thief Because of the love he had for the king The scars of blood that the moon left Had a cat that griefs.
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To feel young Is to feel lost Like a fairy on the sea Or an angel on Earth Like a mermaid on desert Or a centaur on air Your path is being built Yet you have troubles following it And it's okay to make mistakes That's why we can feel lost Because we are still young.
