Blind when in love was I:
The light caressed the traces of my shadows
and I was blinded by the dying suns of my paradise -
All hope in damnation, playing with my conscience -
when the bitter hunger for our dreams died.
Born in black sorrow, forever misplaced,
and the town square where my fears echoed
hollowed out bullet word debates into nowhere
is laid to ruin like all other havens in my world,
as I sculpt fiery graves for all everything.
When I asked her to hold onto me tightly, she did.
I didn't get the chance to let go
before I drowned my angels in the Great Flood,
and built towers of the corpses
that my hopes and dreams left behind.
Before the towers fell over me,
crushing whatever sad sights
and scarecrows of bad faith
and conceited notions of freedom
the demons of my bleeding wounds shaped.
Before the anguish and dread
made me explode into new beginnings,
leaving nothing but the ruins of dead dreams
and the ghosts of the love we shared behind.
And I...
I built walls out of betrayal,
and dungeons out of writer's block.
So that I can stay away, I built a cage:
A Holy Land where all life and joy is denied,
where the erected tombstones
of our miraculous love aches in abandon.
