In your own round hell,
Freedom, silence, pain,
It's pleasure for your
Veins, it's needle gloss.
You between of two worlds,
You away from four suns,
You the one that hates
The Gods, we are also same.
Your religion is absurd,
And you know that it false,
But you also blind and cursed,
Try to run away, into perfect worlds.
In your own round hell,
Freedom, silence, pain,
It's pleasure for your
Veins, it's needle gloss.
At least you dead, but you alive,
About that you know, it's true!
And also only you, can help
Yourself to die, to skip your own lie.
In your own round hell,
Freedom, silence, pain,
It's pleasure for your
Veins, it's needle gloss.
*It's song
In your own round hell
© Copyright: Павел Богданов, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №210120801047
Свидетельство о публикации №210120801047
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