2016. február 20., szombat

díszlet részlet - 200. agymenés

In my torpid sleep last night 
I was dancing, the moon glowed bright 
My throat was mumbling with a voice 
Ghosts haunted me without noice

Embers burning ’neath my tongue 
Miracles last three days long 
I wanted my daunted face to hide 
Cold sweat was sneaking down my spine

On my shoulders perched the wraiths 
I looked them straight in the eyes 
They were silent long, except 
Murmuring two words: Paris, end.

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