CARRY ON... SCREAMING |
I've knelt at your alter. I've cut out my heart. I've lived in your Ruins. My pain is your art. My wrists are bound tight so as not to bleed, my eyes were so dark so as not to see. The memories of the past are fading like a bad dream. I've never been so alone than with you, I've never been scared to dream until now, I can't close my eyes, I'll carry on, screaming. Your words are like ice, they melt in the heat, the cold and the pain, which you seem to breed, have become what you are and left your ruins empty.
ÏÐÎÄÎËÆÀÞ ÊÐÈ×ÀÒÜ
ß ñòîÿë íà êîëåíÿõ ó òâîåãî àëòàðÿ. ß âûðåçàë ñâî¸ ñåðäöå. ß æèë â òâîèõ ðóèíàõ. Ìîÿ áîëü – òâî¸ èñêóññòâî. Ìîè çàïÿñòüÿ íå ìîãëè êðîâîòî÷èòü, ïîòîìó ÷òî áûëè òàê òóãî ñâÿçàíû, ìîè ãëàçà íå ìîãëè âèäåòü, ïîòîìó ÷òî áûëè ñòîëü òåìíû. Ïàìÿòü ïðîøëîãî òóñêíååò êàê äóðíîé ñîí. ß íèêîãäà íå áûë áîëåå îäèíîêèì, ÷åì ñ òîáîé. Äî ñåãîäíÿøíåãî äíÿ ÿ íèêîãäà íå áîÿëñÿ ñíîâ. Íå ìîãó çàêðûòü ãëàçà, ÿ ïðîäîëæàþ êðè÷àòü! Òâîè ñëîâà ñëîâíî ë¸ä, â ãíåâå îíè òàþò. Õîëîä è áîëü, ÷òî òû ïîðîäèëà, ñòàëè òîáîþ è îïóñòîøèëè òâîè ðàçâàëèíû.
âçÿòî ñ londonaftermidnight.narod.ru
| Ðóáðèêè: | Òåêñòû/ïåðåâîäû |
| Êîììåíòèðîâàòü | « Ïðåä. çàïèñü — Ê äíåâíèêó — Ñëåä. çàïèñü » | Ñòðàíèöû: [1] [Íîâûå] |