If the spaces of your constitution gather daylight
through the tearful onion layers revolving a masquerade
breathing in the love that floats between me and you
in our labyrinth play of existence; you make a spark
...
Say, a brighter star shines down for everyone who looks up and dream;
may stumble upon God's secret, yes, we shall look up every now and then.
As conscience grows trapped inside a body decaying of age,
But if not for the sun that shines where would days be?
...