You can't forget.
Take off your cross,
Lie on your bed
And mourn your loss.
It's always there.
You go insane.
You smile through tears,
You call his name.
But only wind
Will hear your plea...
He was a sin
That set you free,
He was a match
That burned your flame,
He was your catch,
He was your pain.
But now he's gone,
It's final word.
You're on your own
Within his world.
And don't be mad,
And don't be rough...
Lie on your bed
And mourn your love
Mourn
© Copyright: Марина Бескрылая, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104081001326
Свидетельство о публикации №104081001326
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