A clock is ticking.
I hear it somewhere, everywhere.
The silence lasts longer than the sound,
30 seconds longer than an hour.
I'm marcked.
If you don't talk to me
the colours will change their names,
the sun will shine at night
and the birds will crawl the earth.
I shouldn't have asked for your blood
we spilled it together.
We are wounded now
scarred for life
Cicatricé, they say in French
If you don't listen to me
songs will be unwritten,
poëms won't rhyme
and everybody will hear the silence.
I shouldn't have asked for your soul
the content was yours
my mind was too confused
my heart stitched
but hopefull
The clock stopped ticking now
I'm naked in body and soul
I smell the unknown
but was never smarter
Everything may vanish
My love will always remain
ReplyDeleteGood information part worn tyres in Heathrow