How I hate talking, words,
how I hate writing.
I just walk in circles in my empty house.
My thoughts only delirium,
my wishes like a morning web.
Whole lifetime like ashes and mist.
Those who whine because of love, those who howl because of lust,
Circle the heart of the city, praying for blood.
In their own dark castles behind the bulwarks
those who are most scared will hide to bury their ghosts.
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The world like a nightmare, from which you cannot wake up?
The life like a sigh between two voids?
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Time passes, clocks gallop,
Many poor ones get bitten by the grave.
So travel the bridge before the evening,
but beware of the order of the murdermen.
Try not to join them
who don't belive in anything anymore.
The desire to be destroyed may be one of the rugthreads of the soul,
Another greed for power beyond the known
A fight is as long as the space between two words.
Yes or no - that is the question.
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