when the moon has risen over a mystical cloud of gray dust with a spark of your eyes as it reflection than the word "beautiful" has been created.
when the soul you loved before me finally vanish from the veins leading to your heart and surrender to my hands then "victory" will become apart of my vocabulary
while my dreams awaits upon your arrival...for my thoughts thirst the taste of pure sweet happiness
For I've been awaiting a "Miracle" to prove that love does exist