If i know that my soul it´s no longer mine to keep?
Can you hear my whispers, at the mercy of the desire?
Can you feel my lips turn into fire?
I close my eyes, and i try to not think,
but your image in my mind it´s like a perfect poison drink.
Take me higher than the sun at noon.
Catch me in my crescent moon.
Shape my skin with your fingers, burning.
Make me break mirrors, screaming.
Suddenly it´s just me and the dark.
I embrace myself, a bit ashamed,
and i stare at my own shadow, just calling your name, calling your name.
|(Image from Fortezza by Escha Van den bogered)|