that I'm not and can't be opaque to you
that you're my kryptonite
that when times feels like it's absurd, there's always sense in you.
And when sense lost it's way, there's always rays in you eyes,
that projects the chained words in you heart chambers.
That when silence approach, miracles preach,
in the most ridiculous way, yet a homicide for loath.
that when there are no good reasons at all,
there's always space for the beast to transform to beauty.