And Eagles fly on the Edge

And to Write is nothing more and nothing less than an empty bless

In the space of frozen Time

and the believing Lesson of the unknown divine

A smell of Heaven in the Night and a desicion to go further behind

An Eagle flying in a hollow

at the end of the grey yesterday

Which some would wrongly describe as sorrow

Flying behind, but secretly in Front

In order to catch Life in the unholy homecoming hunt

Its the attempt to harm innocent sleep

Its the picture in the mirror frame

the words try to keep

For something to remain

As they are always moving on

And on and on

Because of a feeling, a kind of squealing

of promising for something to belong

And Life is a Song which keeps on playing on and on and on

And doves are black

At a Point of Never coming back

Not to be the Same again

Not to be to be sane again

This Wold is just porcelain

And it is tender and it's my choice not to surrender

As The thoughts are spinning in my head

In and on Without regret

Once they lose the ground, they wish for the world to Spin faster around

Trying to submerge as a urge

As a pledge of the search

And praying in a hollow

with all these thoughts to swallow

And Nothing left to loose

And the Lost Freedom as the only thing left to choose

Just a feeling which is going to prove it's all valued in just one move.

But let's Talk about the weather.

Would you rather?

Nevermind

Please take this just to make you feel better

And remember the words about benevolence as defence

As they are so sweet and rawr

Before flying straight to the wall

But Shattering their pieces in constant awe

They need an orchestra to transmit

I know I'm overdramatizing but I can't help it.

And that's better than doing nothing, as the words keep on crushing.

All they need is to remain

And I claim, I've got myself in my frame

Believe me, I've got myself secured in a black frame