There’s light from inside
From the eighth dimension
But I’m not a part of it
I’m not that force inside me

My possession is not mine
My power is only pretence
It appears and goes away
I’d like to keep it for myself

The stream of beauty, impossible to define
It chose me to be its medium
I’m trying to catch it
but it always escapes

It blows wherever it wants
And I can hear its voice
But I don’t know where where it comes from
And where it goes.

The meaning always comes from a side angle
It always comes after all. Like a thief
The rest happens of it’s its own will
The rest is silence.