Paint me a sky with no glittering stars,
and the moon hidden behind the pitch black screen.
Grow me a meadow of wilted tulips,
with nothingness howling without a trace.
Play me the song only a deaf man can hear,
share with me the stories told by the mute.
Send me the chill that runs down my spine,
and warm me up again with the iciness of despair.
I wrap myself up in the blanket of darkness,
creating my own fortress of solitude,
embracing the eternal world of stillness and silence.