Wandering without moving.
For whom the blackness becomes strenght.
The most violent survives.
Half the moon as haft I feel.
Nevermind to speak encrypted words; you are a logic bomb all the time, anyway.
I never told never to myself, only to others.
I forgot how many miles I walked. And since when the road started.
Should I ever return to the start?
War is about to begin, are we ready? Should we be ready?
