Trough mud and the scratches
and darkness and pain
she dances and giggles
she sings in the rain
her hair is undone and
we see trough her dress.
He stands on a wall and
his eyes we can't see
the smoke on his lungs
and the poison in veins
the knifes and the guns
all the pride and the lies.
The storm brings the water
and noises, and lights.
Spetacle of nature that
wakes up two souls.
The phantoms are waking,
the light and the dark.
The doll and the killer,
the joy and the pain
He sleeps and have nightmares
she sings and she plays
she smells like a flower
he always complains
Two halfs of the circle
the moon and the sun
the distance and diferences
kept them apart
although all the oposites
reaches themselves
They long for each other
but they never know
the curse do it's work
and the magic is strong
Two distant and lonely
will seek and will long
2009-05-08
The Killer
He can't sleep
has nightmares
remembers,
regrets.
Has no hope,
no feelings.
His days
are all
the same.
Trough shadows
he wanders.
The moon knows
him well.
They all fear
his cruelty.
He's devil
in hell.
has nightmares
remembers,
regrets.
Has no hope,
no feelings.
His days
are all
the same.
Trough shadows
he wanders.
The moon knows
him well.
They all fear
his cruelty.
He's devil
in hell.
Boneca
Na falta de luz
dos olhos azuis
tal mar que reluz
as cores do ar.
Seu jeito contido,
o corpo encolhido,
o doce do olhar
sem alma, sem par.
Por dentro, o tremor
sugere o pavor.
Por fora, o torpor
não deixa mostrar.
A fria apatia
da expressão vazia
que foge do olhar
de quem a fitar.
Somente o passado
em segredo guardado
revela o legado
da caixa a guardar.
Boneca esquecida,
fantoche sem vida
de roupa encardida,
sem dono, nem lar.
A pele não sente
nem frio, nem quente.
A carne dormente.
Somente o olhar.
No céu, um tormento
trovão violento
provoca o evento,
atroz despertar.
O corpo respira,
os braços estira,
palavra suspira
tentando falar.
No rosto, a docura.
Na alma, agrura.
A estranha figura
na noite a vagar.
dos olhos azuis
tal mar que reluz
as cores do ar.
Seu jeito contido,
o corpo encolhido,
o doce do olhar
sem alma, sem par.
Por dentro, o tremor
sugere o pavor.
Por fora, o torpor
não deixa mostrar.
A fria apatia
da expressão vazia
que foge do olhar
de quem a fitar.
Somente o passado
em segredo guardado
revela o legado
da caixa a guardar.
Boneca esquecida,
fantoche sem vida
de roupa encardida,
sem dono, nem lar.
A pele não sente
nem frio, nem quente.
A carne dormente.
Somente o olhar.
No céu, um tormento
trovão violento
provoca o evento,
atroz despertar.
O corpo respira,
os braços estira,
palavra suspira
tentando falar.
No rosto, a docura.
Na alma, agrura.
A estranha figura
na noite a vagar.
2009-05-01
Stubborn
Why so still
stiff and cold
serious, firm
in quiet, hold
why no smile
when you I poke
nor a laught
for silly joke
trought a wall
i try to speak
with disdain
you make me weak
I don't care
I won't refrain
breathe and try
never complain
and one day
the Ice I'll break
sweet will be
your heart I'll take
stiff and cold
serious, firm
in quiet, hold
why no smile
when you I poke
nor a laught
for silly joke
trought a wall
i try to speak
with disdain
you make me weak
I don't care
I won't refrain
breathe and try
never complain
and one day
the Ice I'll break
sweet will be
your heart I'll take
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