Wound Of Words

30 september 2004

Blood, there’s blood everywhere.
Where does it come from?
What’s the source of this red liquid of life?

I look down slowly and touch the dagger
pushed deep into my heart

It’s my living blood that soak the earth

Why?

Why did you do it?

For a long time I thought that you love me, just as I loved you

Why?

I look at your beloved face one last time.
You smile at me, not understanding the damage I’ve taken

‘Cause the dagger is created by your words, not mortal, but still fatal…

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