Pale innocence
Was clad with tattered dress.
(Her shattering cries dying)
In white emptiness
From coldest winds
(No chance to hide)
My innards In pain.
The bromide
Has failed.
Into pieces,
I'm breaking
The bloodstained glass,
Full of my own hollow fake.
No warmth
She feels,
Her dream was never real.
Lost raison d'etre,
Feel sick,
Midwinter garden slowly
Fade into the bleak.
Pale innocence
Was clad with tattered dress.
Can she devour
Whole emptiness?
Lay wasted In the cold.
My hand can't ever hold
The flowers cut by scythe,
Is that how ends my life?
No warmth
She feels,
No resentment left to kill.
Pale moon split into half.
I wonder, if this wasn't enough.
I think I'd do better on my own -
No friends, no fights, just me here alone.
I think I'd do better on my own.
Within embrace of faint.
I think I'd do better on my own -
No love, no pain, just me here alone.
I think I'd do better on my own.
She's seduced by bleeding guilt.
She's seduced by bleeding guilt.