Walking in the darkness of his mind
A silly path he took, an awful wander…
Seeing nothing, but the simple truth…
In the skies no more sun shining bright!
And wherever he goes, the blood will follow
Whatever he takes, will be rotten with hate
Whenever his time will call, he won’t be there!
Thinking, falling, smashing, broken fate!
And again, she will be called Moonskin
Her eyes, burning with fervent love
Tender hands, pale as snow
The marble beauty, the shape of a Dove!
Walking in the shadows of his heart
No consciousness he’ll take, no thoughts
Descending, crying, dying in his grave!
Forcing hands to tear his flesh apart
All dreams are burned with acrid smoke
And past is vaporized in ravenous fear
Life is fleeing away in the poisoned mist
Standing alone, pathetic end, and pain he broke!
And no more, she is called Moonskin
No love, but hate, disdain, no pride
Slender tears, cold as ice
No stunning beauty, the Dove will die…
Walking in the darkness of his mind
A silly path he took, an awful wander
The same past carrying along like pyre
On which he will, on which he may
Burn another star…
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