I was melancholic, seeing the same ceiling there, every time I woke up. Telling me that this is reality- there is no exit from here. How do I put this to an end? Both completion and destruction- are stories that will never arrive. If my fate is already set in stone. Then I won’t imagine the future I couldn’t choose- that’s what I vowed, but… On the banks of despair, I scream a nostalgic name- like distant thunder. That I am still fighting, that I am on the other side of the storm- let it carry my message to only you.