Walled in a soap bubble
I hop on unknown terrains
Sometimes craters of moon
Where love overflows
At other times
I trudge the mares of Mars
Face red stained
Spirited but infuriated
Meditated stance
On the clouds red
Lightning bolt pierces
My benevolent Thor
I blow rings of melancholy
Eccentric and lame
Stammering I bow to none
But the cawing sounds
The journey is about to end
The bubble is strained
Stretched to limit
Ready to burst
I let the tears flows
Tracks now smooth
Wheels of time
Resonate with my life
Cry
Cry
Cry
At least try it
O Men of pride
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