Please, show me again how the sun rises when you open your eyes and sets every time you let out a sigh. My days are short but filled with thrill, my lungs grow heavy and my breathing shrill.
— They dared accuse me of false prophecies when I uttered your name in admiration. Once, I used to agree with them, but now I see you have become a god, and I, your Judas. // p.m.