There are moments when the world grows so loud
that hiding becomes a form of prayer.
Hands over the eyes, not to avoid reality,
but to find one small corner of silence
inside a mind that won’t stop trembling
There are moments when the world grows so loud
that hiding becomes a form of prayer.
Hands over the eyes, not to avoid reality,
but to find one small corner of silence
inside a mind that won’t stop trembling