اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Mourning the loss of time
The things get palsied in each dimension
In between the rules
And our so called ways
A room with the smell of old wood
No movements, but the years pass by
Out of the only window
Seasons change in fast motion
This truth is nonrecurring
Let thoughts touch you
And dare to entrust
The voice of perception
Don't hurt
