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■ Pașadine în vers alb (73)
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2005-09-18 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
I don’t remember your name anymore
I can only remember your reflection in the mirror Watching me from beyond the edge of silence I can only hear the screams Of the glass people crashing into pieces down by the waterfall Shards of glass digging deeper into the burning flesh Like a rehearsal of intimate rituals Spur of the moment A salty drop on your lips An ice cube on your warm skin The Moon watching greedily While your eyes were turning grey. I don’t remember your name anymore I can only remember the pain Pulsating like blood flowing from a stone cup A life frozen in waiting White faces swallowing their daily dose of fear Voices articulating incoherent words Becoming one with the soft bones of their victims Ripped apart in screams boring from the inside A thick taste of green fluids Crushed bones eaten through the spine Still surrounded by the heavy smell Of eyeballs pecked by the ravens from Hell. It’s morning on the ocean and it’s blue All the black and white pictures have faded away Only a shadow of the darkest color remains Killing the dreams of the glass people Leaving empty carcasses behind Reigning silence Quiet proof of the past night Without mouth you cannot scream Without eyes you cannot cry. This morning finds us defeated Telling tales about the sky’s hidden heights Same place where we look to find our own broken pieces Like grains of sand on the beach Like frozen tears repeating your name Universal ice.
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