PISANJE

If people would feed on sadness, maybe then I would not rip out my heart.
Mistaken to think that the outside World will care as much as I, to love and shine, to smile and fly.

Not so long ago, I gave up my wall of pain, changed it with a sword, that only massacred my heart into a hole;
how to fight now, when I abandon my soul, to the dark, so you could steal my light, at least what was left of it.

I knew it from the beginning, and oh, how again I didn’t listen to my mind full of threats. Have I confused thrill with love and hate with sympathy, only to be hurt again in the end?

PREVOD: KAJ JE OSTALO OD MOJE SVETLOBE?
Če bi se ljudje hranili z žalostjo, si morda ne bi iztrgala srca.
Motila sem se, ko sem mislila, da bo zunanjemu svetu toliko mar kot meni, da bom ljubila in sijala, se smejala in letela.

Ne tako dolgo nazaj sem se odpovedala svojemu zidu bolečine, ga spremenila z mečem, ki je le raztrgal moje srce v luknjo; kako naj se borim zdaj, ko prepuščam svojo dušo temi, da bi mi lahko ukradel svetlobo, vsaj tisto, kar je od nje ostalo. 

Vedela sem že od začetka in oh, kako spet nisem poslušal svojega uma, polnega groženj. Sem zamenjala navdušenje z ljubeznijo in sovraštvo s sočutjem, le da bi bila na koncu spet prizadeta?

It’s like you know all the masks, hiding behind people’s pasts;
But you still let go, lose the grip, so they won’t fall.
How many times will you have to burn to the ashes and feel like you were reborn? And you know that there is just no point of return.. they wont return.. 

Cute letters and songs are (cover of ) Pain in Disguise.
Words are the same, just senders collide, right into the wall of power and light.

‘Cause I won’t change, there’s no point to hide, and all the mistakes I’ve made are cuts beneath my pride.
Rotting inside, and I can’t lie, my bones can’t take the darkness; I am already blind in this light.

PREVOD: SLEPA V SVETLOBI 
Kot da poznaš vse maske, ki se skrivajo za preteklostjo ljudi;
Ampak vseeno jih spustiš, izgubiš oprijem, da ne bi padle.
Kolikokrat boš moral zgoreti do pepela in se počutiti, kot da si se ponovno rodil? 
In veš, da ni več točke vrnitve … ne bodo se vrnile …

Ljubka pisma in pesmi so bolečina v preobleki. Besede so enake, le pošiljatelji trčijo, naravnost v zid moči in svetlobe. 

Ker se ne bom spremenila, ni smisla se skrivati ​​in vse napake, 
ki sem jih naredila, so ureznine pod mojim ponosom.
Gnijem v sebi in ne morem lagati, moje kosti ne prenesejo teme; 
v tej svetlobi sem že slepa.