"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak, knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break." |
Bring me the sunset in sleeping cups
let night gently pour, as light fills up...
Dancing with sweet feminism,
above cemeteries of barren fields...
Turn off the sun; my life still will shine from...
Dress me in black watch me glowing like I have...
Alas, it's sadness
which within I sail...
If only time would run like a river,
yet into the opposite direction...
Paranoid verses
trembling nude in my pocket...
I took fire from the amber
you hid under the pillow...
You secretly binge on my flesh
and say my blood is too bitter...
You've been eating away
at my conscience for a decade...
Your face burns, in stillness,
outside my winter lane...