The end
White or black or grey?
No one knows what to say…
A wicked heart that does not beat
While broken glass beneath my feet
Bring an end to your perverted show…
The north wind ceases to blow
And the cries of the banshee
Bind what was once wild and free…
Death is neither quiet nor merciless
But to be Death is peaceful…
The world is condemned to fear it
Like a glove that does not fit…
The skies angrily pour down rain
That washes away sin and pain.
Stairs to heaven and hell
Brought by an evil spell
Erase the sun and the moon
And my end will come soon…
From a distance I will hear it call
As I prepare my great fall…
If we can only be together in death
Then let this be my last breath…
White or black or grey?
No one knows what to say…
A wicked heart that does not beat
While broken glass beneath my feet
Bring an end to your perverted show…
The north wind ceases to blow
And the cries of the banshee
Bind what was once wild and free…
Death is neither quiet nor merciless
But to be Death is peaceful…
The world is condemned to fear it
Like a glove that does not fit…
The skies angrily pour down rain
That washes away sin and pain.
Stairs to heaven and hell
Brought by an evil spell
Erase the sun and the moon
And my end will come soon…
From a distance I will hear it call
As I prepare my great fall…
If we can only be together in death
Then let this be my last breath…
2 comentários:
Não sei que te diga. Não tenho não a dizer.
Someone once said, that to be one, one needs to exist. But, there are other forms of existance beyond reason, doubt, fear.. Your words, and in their own blossomed pear, in their dwelling-place .. their meaning, exquisit..is framed in symmetry. I, like your thoughts, alot ^-^
They are no simple and deeps thoughts, but you make them fill our faults and incoherence.
L.M
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