Itself.

Here, and There all soil is white, snow on it yet she wears very sharp heels

the sky is grey covered by pouring rain, all is served the cold coffee and he takes a sip

they are soulless however they still paint every wall exists in the tremendous city

Everywhere wild animals are starving but we keep running closer to them

despite the nonchalant sounds that shatter the tiny pieces of beliefs, none is moving

the sun burns until nothing left, leaving out brainless spirits

he throws the key of his chain away, he ate a gulp of his words; he's deceived by his one own

she buried entirety of her heart; then somehow she digs in frighten and relieves to find it

the feeling is paradox itself.