The puppet lost it's strings

Obedient like souvenir
My cradle seems to lost damnation
And in a day of past and clear
Eternity won't ever orient it

I've played the game of misbehave
With rush of blackness and the Moon
It's you who laughed at my possesion
Of words I never dreamed to say

Forever and untold. They shall be there
I'll find the place for shadows afterwards
And lots of fears for sad collisions
The time and space. I'll find a way.

D. A. Laorti