| I can feel the breath of beings that no longer exist Broken glass of the windows Hands that are always touching the asylum walls Maybe looking for a way out I see her sometimes in the late hours In the alley behind my home Levitating and moving towards me Floating in the air There are bees on her pale nude body And streams of dried blood on her open arms Vein-like and fragile Like the branches of a birch tree I see her headless and beautiful Horrors for a single moment of life And she voices it in violet and crimson I see a little boy in the darkness of a hospital hall Solitary in blackness and oblivion Illeligible for the grace of heaven Or maybe just a memory trapped in time I see his torso bloodied and scraped He is covered in grey ashes Maybe the debris of angels Sometimes the ghosts find me And they move their hands along my skin Caressing Hurting Horrible revelations in my ear Allow me to feel The evil beyond this world Sometime's I wish I still believed in God |
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