With child

The tears of her heart
Lay roses on his grave
She is with child

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From the grave

If I fall from grace
The light that hides my face
My father from his pit of darkness, 
Will his bones rumble and break?

The heart is a frozen chest
Obscure reflections light it’s surface 
The paintings of the moon and the stars 
Will love warm the colours of a love night?

What the eyes can see, 
And her hands can’t touch 
My mother in the winds
Will your breath fill my lungs?

The whispers are unending
The language of the cold
Your lessons I may never learn
For the streets are so much different now

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Little Amy

“Hallo! ”
He won’t speak
Ends the line on the other side

I find these conversations in my head
Little Amy won’t sleep
Echoes of her cry
Her fever burns so high

Why am I even thinking about him? 
His tail between his legs
He cowardly turned his back
To blood of his own

Little Amy is his eyes, 
Her smile charms my heart 
That even within his lies
One truth there is, 
This daughter that I love

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A guitar may cry

Because his lips are moving,
The sound of a tender song he whispers,
Endlessly on the door of your heart

The sun is rising
My lover, won’t you open the door?
It is bright outside,
And the sky is beautiful

Just the way you are
Cause you’re amazing
Just the way you are

The night is silent
My lover, won’t you open the door?
It is calm outside,
And the stars are beautiful

Just the way you are
Cause you’re amazing
Just the way you are

Because his fingers are wounded
The sound of an ending tune as it fades,
His broken guitar may cry

Maybe he will leave,
My lover got charmed in the strings
Maybe,  she will open her door


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My church

When I go to church,
I pray for my sins
A day’s grace,
To kill softly

I see no forgiveness
My chains feel heavy enough
That I am of hell,
And these flames will light my mind

When I go to church,
I pray for my victims
A heaven’s grace,
To purge their sins

I seek no faith,
My truth is clear enough
That some bastardy may live,
And others to taste my blade

When I go to heaven,
I pray for my soul
An artist’s life,
Hope my work was absolute

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If the universe won’t be true,
That dove won’t stay,
May be I wanted so much

My innocence won’t waiver
My needles of piercing pain
Through the young skin of my heart

Fairness is brutal
Purity is a joke
Welcome to the old ages

A man and his desires
maidens and wine
You will find him in the bath

The royal servants won’t say,
Of another courtesan to the walls
The Queen and her crown

Shall the opera begin,
This, a fair one,
She could last a while


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