Holy No More
Every morning I start with a prayer,
I look up, till feels pain in my neck,
And do it day after day,
But the Lord never talks me back…
Leave, o leave me to my sorrows,
Here I sit and fade away,
Till I’m nothing but a spirit,
Till I lose my form of clay.
And I’m cutting off these ropes,
That tied me to things I own,
And I’m leaving all behind,
And I feel my freedom grow.
Once I wondered to myself,
I asked God: “What is a sin?”
He said: ”You’re always wear a mask,
And no one newer knows who’s in.
Cut it off and free yourself,
Real face for world to see!
Just become a happy man –
That’s the pray that fit’s for me.
All you are is useless worm!,
Never know what things to do,
Of a dissolutes you learn;
Courage – all I want from you!
You stop holding to your past,
Let those ships to sail away;
Life is running very fast-
That’ the one you should’ve pray!
By the rivers of Babylon we were sitting and crying;
At the nearest garden left our souls dying,
Made so many mistakes – now we don’t deny it.
There is nothing left of us,
Our dawn of life’s about to come;
There is no more “taking shots”,
And my empty dreams are gone.
Dig a grave with my own hands –
No more fears to be upset;
Build a vault in my own lands,
And adorn myself in red,
And I’ll see the one I’ve prayed,
That will be a journeys end.
Copyright © Lena Filatova | Year Posted 2011
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