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A line I spoke
A little naive
Stupid and shamed
And I was all to blame
A thread I broke
Delicate as a lily
Sacred and close
Was all that it bound
In divine rolls
The mould was hearty
The mould was great
In its warm hold
It was heavenly to sleep or lay awake
Was a sorry all that was to be said?
Was some silence all that was to be kept?
Was some reason all that was to be used?
Was anger all that to be reduced?
That thread is ruptured
There are knots in the flow
That mould is broken
The curse ensnared
I still cry
And I swear am dry
But the flowers are dead
And I am all to blame
Upon broken visages, my eyes look
Upon shattered love, my eyes look
Upon tarnished terms, my heart bleeds
And the night passes without letting me sleep...
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