I just can´t remember the last time I felt this way...
I´ m wondering if there is something more out there, something I could be proud of, something I could remember for the rest of my life and put it away in my dreams bag, but this time in the bag where the dreams came true...
And with no one besides me, bothering, be myself.

The pumps of my heart give me the enough blood for all my body,
But besides this, my soul is still trapped in this insignificant shape
No mortal can imagine this torture; no immortal knows this feeling…
I am just waiting for the person that could give his blood because of me.
Sometimes I wonder if that person exist, or is just an illusion of my tired head.
Without knowing how much to wait, I´m still waiting, for peace…
The love in my life is no longer gratefully, I only expect for the impossible.
But I´m finally sure, that maybe in the other life I´ll be loved, in peace, happy.
Death but loved...