Questions of life
There is nothing more to tell,
I’m afraid I’m under a spell.
A spell casted by some1 who is unknown to me,
who knew how to torture and fry me,
someone who knows how to get me killed just by the things I see.
Why is my question,
and the answer is silent.
No more days for me to live by,
the only thing there is to do is die.
I’m afraid I’m under a spell.
A spell casted by some1 who is unknown to me,
who knew how to torture and fry me,
someone who knows how to get me killed just by the things I see.
Why is my question,
and the answer is silent.
No more days for me to live by,
the only thing there is to do is die.
Reacties op dit gedicht
Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: Pure Love |  
|
|
| Gecontroleerd door: | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 18 april 2002 | ||
| Thema's: | ||