while the reflection of past scars still faintly shines still weekly whines a new flame dawns calm and pale surrounded by a white glow but so frail it enlightened my deafened scream where hatred was reigning supreme thus switching ways inverting nights and days and breaking the walls of my rational maze of my past there remained only a heavy ruin finally allowing my cold self to breath in of my plans of a slow succumbing silent smokes were now escaping from their ashes dying down below deep under my skin a cold hole not meant to be filled in a secret place where no light had ever made its way and where each color would have turned to grey right next to that cavity a dead battering in a lonely grave carrying life as a moribund soul for continuity would crave but its slow pulse one day you troubled as its shameful cadence you entered i am the monstrous soul the one that never drifts but always crawls lend me your wings so we can fly and reach the welkin high