At the Day

At the day she came to me and said she's gone

I brought her a flower a color so bright

Her eyes were dark and filled with pity

Overwhelmed by my deed

Showing me her hands that once carried grand beauty

So empty they're now

So empty they're now

With the fall of the day, she sat down in a corner of the room

I heard her cry while reaching for the curtain that fought its way out



Scars are carved in the wooden floors she sits on They're her final words and fall themselves with vicious honesty

If only the one that sees me now

Could help my life in vain

My perfect little self

My perfect little self has this name...perfume... what's left in me behind my dimming life....

Do I still have to hide

Do I still have to hide

Stealing matters' delight redeem my eyes from what I steal from life

From what I stand for in life

Must I really pray to be justified