Just give me nails
To be my burden
Crucified emotions struggle to survive
And the truth, she has not heard for long
Cold and bare, but sacred ?
Who has the guts to spread such lies
A picture of a willow - with a widow in black
A child torn bear - in blooming beauty
For she gave birth to dust
Roses covered by a layer of snow
Freezing wind surrounding,
What you call holy feet
Just a child without a wooden cross
Afflicted hands towards heaven
How could you dare deny ?
How can you blame a widow
For detesting who you are ?
Bare of sore - touch naked boundaries
And empty hands - a widow's life
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- Diary Of Dreams - VIII. Willow (0)
- Diary Of Dreams - Willow (0)
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