luni, 9 martie 2009


Through the skies of lust

I reach the speed of pain...

Though how high you may be

The crack inside your heart is me;

A wind of whispers

Metamorphosises your essence;

So ephemere your soul becomes

That you die slowly...

Behind your sphere of glass 

A shivering butterfly

Becomes your mortal enemy.

You are alone with the eternal ashes...

And that is how you shall remain.

Niciun comentariu: