Not even a God
At the Even;
Not even a word
From the deepest
I entreat my heart
To be part of the foam
Of a flying up furrow…
I relieve my lies
‘Cause they deem the thorn
Dressed in a pale color
The gone plenilune
Do nothing move…
Yestereen gloom,
Deceived all my fools
The spick is fulfilled with specks
My sins are not getting respect
While my holy love
Is still there for no-one,
While my lonely soul
Is walking forward,
Welladay!
My wrath will not after
But there’ll be a long sadness
And it won’t be until darkness
When I bid you farewell
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