[rullbrah:] i'm learning the anxiety of happiness,
It seemed deceitful long ago, but words of praise urge
To birth
A harbinger of butterfly flight.
[rullbrah:] glory of spite, delight of blood,
Happiness of happy - go luckies
And the forever mute,
Of strong only in beauty and vulnerability
Living in the sorrow of their souls.
[propeth:] i come acorss happiness
Without looking for it,
Lost in the bottom of bitterness
In the garden of faded flowers.
[rullbrah:] i'm listening to the whispering of voices,
About the blossomed solitude of anandoned eyes,
Solitude agitates my heart.
Rullbrah and prophet : i will no
Longer, may be when i wake up . . .