Countless dreams lie scattered,
Even own voice feels like haunting music,
And blank face, without any expression of joy or pain..
All I see is that..
Blank reflection..
Faceless identity..
Nameless being..
Lost identity..
Nights scream,waking me up,in its dark embrace,
Asking me questions,and in silence I write..
But without any mark, without any idea..
Without any destination all the designs are gone..
In the blank eyes,silence screams..
And to curb the anguish of silence,
Voiceless voice sings..
Sings songs of love,of beloved..
Of love that was never love..
Of silence and of cold hearts..
It's just a blank face anyway
