My Angel

I'll do it myself


See my hands full of nothing,
keeping distance from something I can't get away from.
Crawling, bleeding and crying.
You're dying so softly.
Come my angel, see my eyes searching for you.
See my death so near.
Hide away, run.
Faith will no longer be what you've expected.
Your body is twisting for mine, and mine's belching forth yours.
Bleed your will, look upon thy hands,
they're empty, like you've always been.

Filipa
(mesmo dia , 16:12)