Do you complain now that you don't give medicine, it's a condition that you don't even give pain, you don't give new ones… the cup of love is still full, the pain is the same, you don't let it drink, you let it spill

Who should I call the oppression of this age, the oppression of the world? Life is mine though, I don't let it live… it would be a thorn or a stone, then I would remove it,

Destination is my only companion, I am not allowed to reach. I am living my life, based on my name, my own name, I am not allowed to speak