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Black Peace |
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geschrieben am: 08.01.2004 um 19:48 Uhr
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Black Peace
The flag of victory
grows from a dead mans chest
The dream of glory
has put his heart to rest
Endless miles have passed
to reach this forsaken place
oh so foreign and vast
a bloody pillow for his face
Sleeping, forever dreaming
countless aeons have gone by
No more fires are gleaming
just ghosts which moan and sigh
A horrid song devoted to the memory
of their oh so shining intentions
Once all deaf to interventions
now they are the seal to this story
Black peace has found its place
roaming within the cursed space
of their rotten skulls and bones
all dead, lifeless as grey stones
-=Morphos=-
~memento mori~
Geändert am 08.01.2004 um 19:49 Uhr von Metamorphosis |
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