Metamorphosis کے بول

Horizons filled with promise Storms of hail and wind In our bleak realities A hopeful grip Singed by burning fires Not a sky but a prison of gray The memories are never far away Metamorphosis. Symbiotic We are but a symphony of frantics Burdened by our own mistakes The walls I build The truth, the hurt, the guilt A helpless shell of my former self Never too late to change your Self Never too late to change your Self The walls I build The truth, the hurt, the guilt A helpless shell of my former self Never too late to change your Self Never too late to change your Self