The time takes time
To lose the mind
To blame, to fade, to slay
To fall, to call, to leave them all
To care, to breath, to be
And it’s gone,
With the nights of fire,
Gone with the trait, and now torn is the wire
Out with the finished play,
Gone away, gone away, gone away,
Out with the leaving breath,
Transformed from the life back to death,
Gone back to death
The deeds we did
The blood we bleed
The plans to withdraw, to attack
The pain we feel,
The wish, the will
Has gone with no means to be tracked
And it’s gone,
With the nights of fire,
Gone with the trait, and now torn is the wire
Out with the finished play,
Gone away, gone away, gone away,
Out with the leaving breath,
Transformed from the life back to death,
Gone back to death
Thought we’ll always be near and never get apart
Gone
© Copyright: Максим Нижегородов, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107080601690
Свидетельство о публикации №107080601690
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