Under a lucid sky,
I'm sure I've seen those pavements,
those faces before.
I take off my mask,
look through the tears.
My face , is all rotten,
like a bad apple.
Tell me , who was the worm?
You tell me I'm frozen,
after death.
This was the deal,
of a thousand years or more.
I don't know.
Who am I ?! My beloved ones,
are they alive !?
or dead as my soul.
I must go back , please,
to my real life.
I don't want this infinity,
to see how it all,
just fade away and die !
I just can't be a god,
he commited suicide,
a suicide,
suicide . . .
Release me from this prison,
this woolen cloud,
you created for me.
For I know now,
that wasn't ment to be.
I'm not a messiah.
I'm just a worm,
in a rotten apple,
this little earth,
in a painting,
of vannila skies . . . |