The lukewarm raindrops cause a deep wound, even to the innocent
A lie is born
And somewhere the lie becomes something else
Someday, all the words, the day and everything else will get buried in the mistake
I hold dear to me, a blue and pure memory
My hope fades away from the angry tears
Even the strength to live
In a fit of passion I go crazy with grief
And so, I pray to the setting sun
burning from the inside
crying with pain
You can not save me
The lost sense of generosity from the angry tears, is
The love given tome as I am born
The reason for my lost heart
Must be my own weakness...?
It is then the proof of sadness, caused by absolute justice
In the lukewarm rain which does not stop...
vineri, 13 martie 2009
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