Whispers

The pure, moonlight falls on the wooden piece I've become. 
I wither, slowly, as the burning love I have for you, 
Easily metamorphoses me in ashes, 
Sparkling, hapily in the lonely moonlight.

I'm sure you think, I'm lost somewhere
I'm sure you live happier than never,
I'm sure you'll rot inside yourself, 
I'm sure you'll cut what you won't forget.

The will won't stop, it's driven by
The atrocious hope for destruction, the fact, that I won't be able to ever be myself
Rises
Reflecting the dawn's light, in it's wet, pierced eyes.

The dusk has come, they gather near, 
Closer and closer I close in yourself, 
The red and orange light of the fading sun, 
Reflects in the crimson blood that's madly jumping
In the air.