joi, 5 noiembrie 2009


I'm but a lone wayfarer, traveling
In a bitterness-driven world of woe.
All is chaos, confusion – the roar...
I fall upon my knees as I sit, listening
To that roar of life, clashing at death
I linger at this forgotten bed
And feel the cold rain dripping in my skin,
And my soul struggling within...

In my mouth the word of your name fades
And my figure is lost in these growing shades
I blend in this hall of mosses,
As I mourn all of our losses -
our dear friend, love, so long gone!
And I remain here, and you not, I'm alone.
I wrap myself, as I lie upon your grave
I hold myself, I do try to brave.

I wish I could rest here, and in my arms hold you
But this lost bed empty remains...
only a trace, a glimpse of you.
I must wake, and strive, another step
Come out again, face another thousand rains
My eyes, once so dry, can dry no more
But I can no longer speak, my voice is sore

Of mumbling again and again your worshiped name.

 - by Cold

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