The years when the night is filled with night

I, adorned in a custom of yellow

A very simple yet mistaken

The colors have vanished

Fibers of a fleeting illusion

Each night

I want a world the size of a room

Perhaps now should not exist

than the sun’s own glow

The ceiling of the night trembles

It was just a game for the boy

In eternity, the old man's gaze is emptied of memory