...and than she became older and left her friend in admiration

studded with bitter tears sickening falls the colour

taste for taste drowning in the nectar of clouds

which pass the light blind and bleeding

as the summer ever walks through winter's woods

...those tales...

stay far from me I lie to myself... and still I wish

I woke up again in the shining of help freedom and immortality

I opened my hands and call for me... but any beauty has its thorns

in the empty pictures of your life surrounded by radiance.

in the dust of every little hope no one can see

what happens in the end and you didn't want to see dry tears...