This night i enter across the back door of my life, like a ghostly thief, and i take advice i´ve lost my shadow behind. It means nothing... but searching in my dictionary synonyms of "soul" i find "catastrophy", and i know i´m trapped again inside another cage with another shape.
But the difference between this today and yesterday is the way i speak.
IS NOT A SCREAM.
...is not a wishper.
Beetween the decadence of the smile of someon