I find it so hard to believe, how in my sunniest day I prefer
a colder shade, where colors are crowded, life goes a calmer
way.

My eyes are emeralds that are attracted to places that have
been blackened, the colors of hope rely on the existence of
despair.

   I start to move, the sun changes the color of my skin and I
turn into something else, something I do not wish to recognize.
   The rest of me I have hidden underneath my sleeve, the
part you've already accepted, but I'm not willing to set free.

I have so much to live for, then, why am I in so much pain?
Why am I afraid of losing you again?

Life goes on... Doesn't it? Yet, it's easier to just die.