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The one that cries when I open my eyes,
Time and again it fills a pot,
Overtime it gets so restless,
Again and Again my heart burns hot,
The one that looks like it’s hopeless,
Hoping that it would close,
Judging from its observation,
I hope I could block what it throws,
It tires from its fixation,
It cracks from its relation,
A story that it’s narrating,
Looking at the player while he’s mutating,
Spins, as my life starts rotating,
Cracks, as my heart starts aching,
Dust, fills the face of the faceless,
Must, says the will of the nameless,
Grow, states the mind of the ageless,
Filled, with the memories of the faces,
Smiles, at the sight of the aces,
Tired, of all the places,
Angry, of all the spaces,
Empty, with only the owner,
Made, with the loss of another,
Sadness, on the face of the mother,
Reflection, of a dying brother,
Hoping, to not go to the other,
Cries, at the sight of the killer,
Dies, broken to pieces is the mirror.