Out of the thin air, it grows.
As we grow, it grows.
As long as life breathes,
As long as we breathe,
It grows.
As long as the life out
Wrinkles the life within.
It grows.
As long as youthful dreams
Get on. It grows.
The less we cry, it grows.
The more we sigh, it grows.
Until we reach the void
In which,
Feelings gloom and doom.
In which,
Vacuum grows and blooms.
In feeling of nothingness, we suffer
Alone.
Diurnally,
The sigh grows inside-
Giant-like that devours
Avidly our core.
Nerver going to stop
As long as hearts throb.
It grows. It grows.
It grows.

S.C.P.BIBA