Love

It's not the light in dark of night,
it's not the warmth of fireplace.
Neither the heartbeat, nor a flight.
It's not a gesture full of grace.

No, this ain't love, I know for sure,
though these are things for which I searched.
Love's a disease, it's hard to cure.
This feeling in my soul is fetched.

I've heard so many voices say
that love will always be around.
But now, the feeling's far away -
this empty space is all I found.

This sickness's in my veins; my blood
is full of crimson shards of glass.
And now I lust the heart of God,
I want him feel my pain at last.

Sometimes it seems to be a lie.
Sometimes it seems to be unreal.
Sometimes I lack the tears to cry.
Sometimes I regret what I feel.

And I remember there's no sense.
The clouds turn black, it starts to rain.
Forbidden truths become intense.
And there I walk - alone again.

I wander through a barren land,
this road is not where life belong.
This road is burnt throughout my mind.
Immortal love, my sorrow song.


Metis
19 VI 2005

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