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(посветено на Блуди, Татко, Клоди, Лади и Фрости)
(Надявам се да ви хареса, да предупредя стихчето е крайно абстрактно и въпросните "лица" нито са вашите лица, нито са лица изобщо)
...As he walked around the skyline, 100 faces appeard. In terror and fear his eyes began to tear.
He swang his scimitar and swiped all faces that seemed familiar.
His arms felt weak, He was So scared and ashamed, he could not speak.
With a dash of daring and despair, He cut himself and his hair.
Then a face appeared and came up close, It must be another one of those, Children of Capital or Children of Cruelty...All who beg to differ, will pay dearly!
So deep? So sincerely?
Much to his disapproval, He reduced his altitude...by falling,
During this episode of events he never stoped calling...
Bayonets Hurray!
Then another face appeared. Grasping a sight of this display, It seems as though it had something to say:
Oh, Now you see how it is, For the first time and 100 times more...
Just a sight that I trully hate and adore. I can say much more and speak much less, Oh you! So Restless!
As he hit the concrete below, He had one clear vision overall.
My words are the Steps of the singer who can not dance!
My steps are the words of the dancer who can not sing!
Joy to all, I will bring.
So he said, So he thought. Softly or maybe not.
He was wounded, He was bleeding.
He looked up with his eyes, He tought he went, to the skies!
The faces that flew above formed a circle,
They formed a purple, orange.
What is the meening of all this he asked,
Not a single answer was given, Not a single mistake was forgiven.
Not a single tear was recognized,
Not a single weakness was emphasized.
Why should I Suffer So much,
All I need is a friendly touch.
How can it be,
That I give so much...
How can it be,
That recieve so little,
The Faces Vanished Into the Night...
As they left, The projected themselfs in purple light.
Антон Дойчев.
Редактирано от Benjamin_Andre на 09.07.06 03:29.
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Restless [re: Benjamin lkarus Andr]
