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Tortured Soul

Oh silky dress of my soul
Forming black rainbows of thoughts
Oh fume irony of my life
Dreams sharpen
the edge of the knife
Oh in essence
death and sorrow
Would your eyes
my broken heaven follow
Oh empty my breath,
so, so dense
Fog brooding
in a cruel present tense
Oh the bruises of my spirit
The pain to be fed
without your lyrics
Oh the wind is building up
The scars of these words
shredding up
Oh my so lonely
and lost heart
I die for love
slowly and in silence
Oh I hold the cross;
I′m so hurt
But one day
your smile in stillness
Will bloom
with complete utter joy
I so much want you to enjoy
Oh I love you
beyond my own greatness
My soul will vanish
blessing your blithers


ALMA

Copyright © Todos los derechos reservados.

Publicado el: 30-06-2003
Última modificación: 00-00-0000


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