The memories of you are sweet,
beautiful memories with wings
fluttering in the far away distance,
still I can hear your voice,
a sedate, soothing rhythm of my bleeding soul.
Your voice stays with me, changing every season,
The environment and the Cosmo that is me, and
over this landscape of loose translation.
I don't want to live
I want to die
I want to surrender to the dark world of death
Your death, like a skilful sword
Stab deep in the core of my heart
and kill me so much better
than anyone ever did before.
Today I sit and talk
And death sits and listens
I am fragile, and vulnerable under its eyes
And hope for tenderness
as I seek for light from this dark.
I sit under the cold gaze of death,
ranting about my madness and sad goodbyes,
there is much more to be said,
but doesn't mean that It will be heard. I would like to stop talking
Because I want to,
I can't stop thinking.
Good or bad or in-between.
I have no other talent
so I must bare my soul, to spare the boy It's just because it's true,
that I cannot live with you.