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Never To Be Felt Until It’s Lost

Tales Of Origin


Strange how your eyes appeal me
Landscapes where I Iost my direction
Visual mirrors from within
Confusing my reflection

Full are the words
Of hate and despair
In a world of illusion I wander alone
Trapped in a spell of nowhere

Romanticised reality
Dishonest in its lair
Like a ghost of origin

Respectable on the outside
Maintain a front of sense
You knew it better than me
I couldn’t care less in my defence

Blinded by shapes from the past
You saw me through
Consumed by the stage that I’m at
I can’t reach for you

Tales from the past runs high and low
Calculating hands of thee
Veracious words rebound
Overwhelming me
Repressed my belief and the crowd went mad
My will in their hands
And everything that came out from me
Interpret by foreign thoughts
Blamed the world får my sins
And yet in the end

I was still the one carrying
What would soon become a misscariage
Pain growing inside of me
Violate my soul

Pervaded my brain
Great loss
Never to be felt until it´s lost
Cutting words spltting me in peaces
Insides spread on the outside
Published me from a to z
Suicide, illusion of pride

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