Sliding tentacles wind up the being,
Useless struggling of broken wings
Curved is the flight facing the zenith.

You are withdrawing into the shell you took shape from.
The grey and chilly armour protects you from words,
Yet isolation murders the light.

The saddened eyes - flow of waters
Turned blue by the salt of the tears
I wrap your face in my hands,
While the abyss of the merging glances bewilders.

Stretch your hand and let me bind your hesitating fingers.
Their touch...fluttering of butterfly wings.
Dispel the shadowing clouds over your soul
And heat it up by the ardour of my kisses.

Come to filch a bit of time,
Lives sketched for another dimension...
Let's run straight to the sunrise,
Where no sadness exists...but the eternal bliss...