Who has stolen my shadows?
Who has gone to humble my all souls, brethren?
Time wraps days after nights
All spaces sizzling in praire fire like a nomadic tribe
Sudden silence of violence crying in a whimper of oceanic slumber
I forget to remember the consequence of existence
The chiaroscuro of my shadows follow all the way to the blessed land
Where lies my colours of silence to life and death.
Hearken to the voice of hidden mystique
Nothing is dispensable in warring togetherness
All embedded in natural joy and glory
Hope and beauty all to clear to the ephemeral guise
Who can fly into the rage of fiery silence?
Colours smile in colurs in jest and fury
Who can paint the vast expanse of mother's benevolence?
Images of lost dreams surround the canvas of shadows
Seven sins and virtues breathe the ecstasy of existence
Beings are born and re-born in fleeting wings
Yet there is so much agony and ecstasy hiding in every soul.
Who has stolen my shadows?
Who has gone to humble my all souls, brethren?
Colur 'em not!
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