Just one look from your eyes and everything dissapeared, motionless pictures framed in a sacred dream. The pale skin, the soft white hands, medieval beauty kept between my dusty pages. Nothing has changed, not a single tress has left the perefctly organized confusion inside me, the image beyond the mirror keeps hurting more than ever, growing along the distance, shattering the flying days into millions of broken dreams. Busting into shivers I too shed my last desire : keep me inside your dreams the way I still do.