You're a black Porsche in the hurried fast lane
With a fragile wreath of roses steering wheel
Gripped with full anxiety
while your passion kicks the gas fearlessly, 
Speed to my own life!
you say, hopeful but fateful

And I ask you, 
Can I have a ride to the sunrise?
But you reply, 
How can I deliver you to the light without passing through 
the darkest path of the night?