In the middle of the time
when the pain is burning
roaches go to far
crawling on my skin.
dead eyes are lacquered gold
and lips of fire die alone
drowning dreams in blood;
spiders, cry with me!
on the bed of flowers,
bones are made to stay,
caught in silver's flame,
caught in autumn's rain.
Rain and wind and fucking time
drive the pain to death,
drive the soul to peace
reaching Cross, I blame !
08.08.2015; 00:47
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