Listen.Listen carefully.It's the sound of a broken heart.Pounding restlessly, desperate and mourning.Reaching your throat, reaching your head.Hold on, little heart, take a rest.Stay silent for that very moment.Hush, stop the rhythm, break the resonant silence.Holding tightly what will never be mine.Listen carefully.Listen, listen!It's the sound of a dead and worn out heart.Too big to carry it in your chest,But too weak to pound vivid and yet so fragile.Dear heart, dear pain,Farewell, good night.
Nothing left.I feel with you, I feel for you.Do you know my feelings too?If a heart beats, and beats…And your throat explodes.Do you know his feelings too?When you are just yourself…But there is one left to be too much.I know his feelings too.When you smile and smile for the world,Nothing left but a smile and lies to cling on.When you forget yourself, the one who was too much from the start.When you smile and smile…And cry inside.I know his feelings too, I do.Does he know my feelings too?I do, I do.When your heart breaks apart and all the shards cut so deep into your throat.I do. I know.When you are bleed
FarewellWhat is it, what is that pain in my chest?Is it the blame you put upon my head?Or is it barely a feeling of guilt?Farewell, I said long ago.Farewell, I would never be able to.You spoke these words, sharp as a dagger,And I nodded with my pate; unspoken my belief in your wisdom.Could it ever be, you and me?Could this ever be true?I felt my hand letting go so long ago,But I feel the eyes behind me, still."It's better this way", my mind tells my heart.But my heart tells me, "this will never become real, this will never be better."Spinning my words around, like a furious child,You just blame it on me, blame it on me aga
The sky is crying.„The rain starts to fall again!“, shouts the little girl watching out of the window. How she loves to watch the rain dripping from the sky, but still, it makes her a little sad.She turns around looking at her father: “Is the sky crying, Daddy?”, she asks then.The father shakes his head and answers with his soft voice: “No, my dear, why should the sky cry? It is just the rain, nothing more and nothing less.”The girl doesn’t say anything to this answer, she just believes it.Years pass by and the girl grows up. Just like a little flower growing in the sun. She really likes her dad, and she tries to be s
Sta.sh
