When we go--
Down to hell,
I can't help but wonder,
Is the soul -fast- burning?
Nothing could be worse than this:
Because you died,
I try to put order to the universe.
Order to chaos.
Everything has it's place.
Measuring sticks and whipping boys.
Feelings felt too.
Everything has it's place.
This compulsion creates chaos again.
My world always burns.
Cut the strings that pull many ways.
Everything has it's place.
Life is predatory my friends.
Yet still I cast aside the misery signals
And the harpy cries,
The voice I follow can only be
The one that gives back my sanity.
Night dreams rain,
A pitter-patter on roof top,
Before this straight jacket,
The city was burning.
I know the lighter was in your hand.
How beautiful to see
-- a reflection of flames --
In my lover's eyes.
The wine of our love,
Was indeed the death at our door.
Skull face burnt.
When we lose ourselves,
We lose our way.
How beautiful to see--
A reflection of flames.
-posted by Nobius 11:33 PM 