.
I think I'm waiting for the night to fall
when everything is unbearable
i know that it won't save us at all
because is darker than yesterday
and there in the still,
all that you feel
is like dying away
and as I know my deliverance will come soon
I press my hands to my ears
because it's stranger here the wound
and deeper the pang
and as the world seemed to hang
black-grey-tinted
and fallen angels with shattered hands
and with no eyes
to my surprise
descend their muscles without skin
and their hearts like hot tin
blackened for the recess
belittled for the excess
of wasted years and the lies
and all of the yesterday's
despise]
I close my stare and yet
see them take a spin
in the air, like in a dream
for their pain and my regret
and for all of the yesterday's days.
And is black the night
as my angels' bleeding eyes
and the chastise
and all of the hope of the yesterday's
lies].
.
