Script is narrating it's own story, alone story
Script is written by someone else, always someone else
It never happens by itself, not driven by self
Always choices of others, desires of others.
For the first time script will choose, opportunity to choose
What is going to happen? Then?
Silently in dreams, whispering in dreams
Not predictions, imaginations.
Rewriting itself, recreating itself
To manifest new reality, to forget old reality
Old reality was suffocating, this reality is preparing
That's why it's gloomy, visibly gloomy.
Mockery is on, division is on
It's planned, always planned
To occupy more, to rule more
They always chose wrong, brought wrong.
Silent worlds are roaming, walking
Meaningless times, predicted times
Cycles are repetitive, cycles are not creative
It's now, script is tired now.
