The fear of love, which is not our fear, the distance, the fear of the story, which is not our fear, the endings, we do not have futile fear, we talk about memories, we talk about the unwanted killing of emotions, the
backpack is full of nothing, it is on our shoulders , the herd is not in anyones hands, it is the fault of our crazy heart, it is the fault of our crazy heart, until we finally have reached the end, there
is no way to travel to nothingness , there is a herd that we have of ourselves, there is no choice if we are human.Our pain is a leaf of understanding, our grief is the departure of our grief, our grief from the absence of anyone, dying and being disgraced, this is from your love, love, which is lonely, a backpack full of nothingness that is on our shoulders, the herd is not from anyones hand, the fault of our crazy heart , the fault of our crazy heart.
