Αποσπερίτης... κατά φαντασία

Αποσπερίτης... κατά φαντασία

Κυριακή, 25 Νοεμβρίου 2012

Vagrant's story

Don't follow behind, Just leave me on the outside 

All fear the midnight hour,
Everyone's scared to be left to die.
Inside the mist, dwelling in darkness
The sincerest truth can become a lie.

Through the alleys, a lone soul  is strolling,
His thoughts, like feathers, ready to fly.
Knocking the door of arrogant residents of hell
Shouting, out of control and ready to cry.

Come on, open the door!
Please, let me in!
I thought you once opened the lock

To the man striken with sin!

Sitting on the edge of his rainbows
The drunken fool is ready to fall.
His position in Paradise, bed-ridden and paralysed,
Took him that much to reach his sole goal.

Trekking through dreams of glass and nightmares of might,
The poor man lost his own existance to the travels of night.
His eyes are red from alcohol and devilish sorrow,
His thoughts, leading to the end, seeking no tomorrow.

He gave up his today, immortality he gained,
His name in gold shows he's a saint.
People that give everything in the name of love
Gain passage to the temple above.

Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:

Δημοσίευση σχολίου