winter 

 In the cold room only small flame
 moving shadows nothing more
 peace in soul, do I want a lot ?
 no, I'm not searching again
 only flame remained from luck
 and the last piece of wood
 was my only hope
 so when the shadows stop dancing
 eyes of mine will cry
 it's hard to find dry wood in winter

illusion of me 

I'm..
 just an illusion in reflection
 shadow in the light
 snow in summer
 and sun in rain
 I'm a cloud made of smoke
 that rise to the sky
 but everytime melts
 into dust stain
 the one that doesn't fit in
 doesn't belong
 I'm a boat in the storm
 and the same strom, very strong
 a quiet radio
 but my waves are not perceived
 I'm that saint
 whose name you say to feel relieved
 I'm a loner
 that wanders through night streets
 strange weirdo
 in the morning always fleets
 Maybe I'm a sadness
 maybe just an illusion
 I am what I am
 living in delusion..