On the hundreds silent tower I’m standing still
Celebrate my search for sincere lover, without willing to disgust
Until the door is widely opened
Although tears, is the most real language which creates meaning
On the hundred silent towers I am putting aside
Rejoice the surgery of releasing pain, maybe fantasy.
Tears are dropping from the face of my lover
While in my dream, you are always smiling sweetly.
On the hundreds of silent tower, I am faint
Harvesting vanity along with the falling of the days
I lost compass and map in my empty hands
Are you willing to be there, in the empty of misery?