None, save me and the Bodkin
Pitter-patter on the roof:
Behold! 'Tis not the Rain; thence me it has to be..
But "Run!" Thou sayest; I run...
And there and then I behold that a time will come when I again Dead will be...
Thou tell'st me to leave without delay;
I leave with my Bodkin and my Tears in my hands...
Lo! The Shadows, the Sky... descending;
So, by a dint of smite, I gait ere I run and melt together with Dusk,
In my Mind, in which is this event,
But it seems as if naught is to change anyway...
After all these years Thou left'st me down in the emotional depths,
The Sombre-soaked velvet-drape is hung upon me,
Turning my feelings away from Our so ignorant World:
All the Beatiful moments shared, deliberatlely push'd aside...
A Distance there is...
A distance there is - Theatre of tragedy
To Lara.... with love.....
