Here I stand
Ponder days that pass
Walking in sobbing paces
Recovering from flesh wound
That you bless me before
The day is getting brighter
Cold night with you burned by
Dawn of end
End of dreams and sweet talk
Illusion so called magic
Shedding shell
Metamorphing to imago
Imago, new self
Walking in sobbing paces
Recovering from flesh wound
That you bless me before
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem