I do tolerate that from bottles to books She leaves prints everywhere. But, I can't stand her envy Of the potential of my solid form. Her eternity I never begrudge.
Let us tear these maps and logs for once And also throw away this compass, if we must. Let's make this journey without directions Without boundaries and self-imposed restrictions .
The thought of the coming winter Sends chills down my spine The cold is not what scares me But with it are memories entwined. Last winter was a lot warmer Than this promises to be
Don't Stop you son of God! Kill 'em. Blow 'em all. Those infidels. Barbarians.Bloody parasites! Let trophies be Their heads to your kids. Whose future must you guard
Have I seen the last of you Or should I really bank on fate To make you appear before me Before 'tis too late. For the ghosts are too many now, Too many echoes of, words unsaid,