We whisper to the wind
with words that have meaning
only when you're forlorn
absent feeling and understanding
These years made us
what we are
and how we look upon
this ugly world with derision
forges you emptier
and the road streches
towards a deadly river
where no one has anything to call their own.
And the ashes by your side become a dirge for sorrow
When you raise your voice to praise the pale morrow.
Joyfull.
If the ethereal silk frees you,
time has begun again
You could hide to shredded darkness
You could hide into the night
when lips caress and faces bloom.
Your face is covered with joy
Adorned with the reflections of the sun.
I will always be here.
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