I never know whether the words of yours made of lie or truth, I never got whether those glares would lead me to heaven or dragged my soul into the most bottomless abyss. But one thinks I do understand, that you are the life which never has a temple where I can worship it, you are the freedom which I can not chain it into some worldly boundaries.
The way I spoke couldn’t reach you, because you are beyond all the words I’ve understood.
The way I saw couldn’t reveal you since you are nor the body nor the idea.
The way I loved would never touch you, since the time I knew what love is, I’ve died along with the whole me within.
You are the roses those rise beyond the rights and the wrongs, the way you pink me is the most romantic line in this land of the living. Since you are, the very spirit of my breath.
Bhyllabus l'énigme 
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