Book of Skin
This wallpaper is dying
never having seen the sun
light crucifies all dark
This life has stained my ears
stolen my sight from seeing
I am a house without a heart
Beyond all sins
Dark red rivers I swim
for sanity is knocking at my door
From these pores, I seek
A truth that now has spoken
Etched in the gallop of stolen time
In the garden of discontent
The lilies have withered
stigma of scent
Falls upon me
You are a book of skin
You are a book of history
Sometimes I thought I could read you
When I skipped a page etched too deeply
In the echo of your memory
I spoke , once too often
I spoke, once too late
My vagabond dream still floats
And only to you...
Now crush me kindly
Vandalize my aching spirit
I am a book of skin
I am a book of history
Now read me not
No more...
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