Sadness Cerrien
Cloud
Cloud
Cloud
It's not a fair
It's not a festival
It's something else
It's my own dreamland
It's walking through the veil of a memory, where no one feels the green streams but I
It's the purity that my soul wants me above the flesh of trees
The outer circle of dew and root
And from primal to the modern winds that pulsate through her tresses
We are perfect
I will hold you in the tallest of my trees
The greatest circle of veins
Above and through
And so far
I am Damian
The D in my name alikе the green streams
I remеmber the fragrance , the mirror
I feel the cerrien days
