"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...
Your face burns, in stillness,
outside my winter lane...
You often flare in darkness,
and I see you in the dim side...
Here?
I told you. Gloomy are the days of the...
From dust to rebirth
like pollen particles...
Thinking of you..
I breathe on illusion...