the colour of my room wall
became the colour of my routine
it used to be the warm spring morning
but now they appear as miserable as me
then you've crossed the door
like an autumn rain
never meant to stay
just leaving a shadow on the walls of my room
the world is full of kings and queens
who blind your eyes and steal your dreams
the world is full of beauty and filth
choosing the right one is the reward itself
I've locked the room
and forgot where I've hidden the keys
it's much easier here inside
than fighting these demons all the time
but I am now a better man
I saw what was drawn aside from myself
the vision is clear, I can define my aim
it's long me marching without a fear
it's still hard to fall asleep
lying in cold stone grave
a statue for wasted dreams
I am no longer the victim
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