She's riding a graceful white filly
Her favourite slogan is to be social
She's a knight who's treating firmly
Though there's nothing to lose but the denial
She's of the type of hindermost
In my dead romantic poems
If she's trying to get me lunatic
She'll fail more than eternity will act
In that white place there's a cerise sorrow
Dwelling my heart, separating me from the seal
I want to shield myself from that woe
And what the hell she's doing in my portrait?
I could run away, I could hide away
Where I'd hide me from my pride?
I could fly away, I could bend the way
But my mind wouldn't let you inside
Chase her sword's scabbard
And hunt the souls of the cowards
I never give up on the good time
I won't give it up on your face
At night alone my castle
Will abandon me immemorial
A wanderer of the night world
Scarred by dark life's bond
10th of July 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem