Remembering the past days, a wish builds up inside your heart.
You let the bird fly, as the earth burns alive.
A hope that will never dies, push you to the edge of the cliff, facing the abysm of despair.
Smiling as you choose your way, the scars adorns your body, while it takes the shape of a blade:
A weapon to defend the tree that grows in your garden, or to attack the chains that try to oppress you.
The most simple of acts may change you, but remember one thing: mistakes doesn't mean evil, and the right acts may leave more blood spilled than the crimes we condemn.
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What do you guys think?
