Hiding from myself in the attic
Amongst the old junk and other things
I have found it in the old and dusty chest

Filled with hopes of the days gone by.
This is box, i have opened it up.
For a long time it was laying in dust at the bottom.

I stiffen affected by the melody
While sound out of the box lid was shivering in darkness


In the dark under that lid there was my world
That i had exchanged to suffering
And the years of meaningless searching inside myself

The untold words of my penitance.
Denied by the light, forgotten by gods
I don't live, but rather exist.

Wandering around the hellish cricle for years
I see only your smile.


Like an old digger in the heart of desert
I am rummaging in the bottom of the chest.
But there is only dust and shadows of the past

And rust of the days lived in the void.
Shadow of the living pain decayed with time
Has fallen like a dust from my box

That have managed to save only memory,
Memory about your distant smile.


I will close the box with a shivering hand
Once the last sounds will die in the night.
My house will suddenly become so empty

All the sounds will vanish and even reasons (will vanish too)

The skies will open up,

Rain will flow down
To the ruins of a perished world.
In that prison

Made out of false images
I was like a bird devoid of wings.


I was waiting too long,
I was somewhere in between.
Rain is hitting my face

But i don't care.
Wind will burst
In the opened windows

But won't cop anyone inside.