Death Of The Beautiful


You carried with both your hands
This book that's so hard to read
And cried at your last home delivery
Your heavy feet trying to walk,
Away from the hunger you feed,
Away from the poison you need

You didn't write, not a word,
This book will remain unfinished

Marble and stone,
Funeral monuments only for lifetime

Your scared lips awake,
Your senses released will find
Find me retired,
In dreaming of peace of an angel
Disguised as a sheep,
Your pain will find mine asleep

News on the radio, they haven't found me
The night is stalking behind me...

Will I ever sleep and
Find me dreaming your death?

Someone else tried to do
The living in me, I don't know
If he's been here all along
If he will die too,
Tired, just like me,
Tired, he's done that for me

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