With my numb cheeks on a brocken chair
I remain straight with a lot of restrain
been silent even when thoughts are hard to bare
it is needed to prevent getting hit by those wild train.

With them I travel,
an adventure,perhaps a torture
parallel to eachother, Im the rebel,
crows and rats are something I lure.

Their skin is so pure
but inside's so dull
with their crown they're always full
with their heels they step on the fool.

They're all so black
but shadows they block
how confusing it is
people see them as symbol of peace.

With eyes inside the ocean
blurs perceive them as light.
Their appearance an image of twilight,
the character in a serene night.

With an eye so open,
see what's behind that den
but why do people know nothing,
filtered eye must be the thing.

They sure achieve high
but they cut the wings that fly
for they can only jump
so they bring down those wings to dump.

Here I breathe with my brocken chair
as their noisy voices fill the air
as we link touches that I couldn't bare
as I catch gazes with a lot of pair.

Communication I wouldn't dare,
too disgusted by their air
but...