Whistling through the silence,

A sudden impulse blinds reason,

There is somewhere fear; hiding in oblivion,

And a sort of indifference giving way to idleness,

I’m sort of worried, weak and lost,

But courageous, sure and confident.

However the world still seems like a useless, handicapped autocrat,

It can just sit and pass orders,

Smoke a puff of ironical authority, and

Display a will of rusted iron.

I can’t help it; I want to, but still I can’t,

It’s past nighttime; I’m still thinking of what the heck should I do,

I’ve crossed the limit of stars and transcended the boundaries of imagination,

My body is here, but my mind is somewhere in the universe.

I just can’t stop thinking of the future,

I just can’t stop imagining reality,

However, all this seems like a dull illusion,

That’s being casted by some weird drug of insanity

However, I’m still trying to focus; be there,

But I can’t, I’m still wandering.

The cold gives me chills,

The silence warms me up,

The noises amuse me,

The sky makes me feel bouncy,

But why can’t I make out what I should do?