It has to
come from here,
right this instance,
my cry into the world.
right this instance,
my cry into the world.
The past
is only a shadow emerging from
nowhere.
nowhere.
Life was
somewhere forgotten
and sought refuge in depths of tears
and sorrows;
over this vast empire of solitude and darkness.
Where is the voice of freedom,
freedom to laugh,
to move
without the heavy phantom of despair?
Where is the form of beauty
unshaken in its veil simple and pure? Where is the warmth of heaven
pouring its dreams of love in broken
spirits?
and sought refuge in depths of tears
and sorrows;
over this vast empire of solitude and darkness.
Where is the voice of freedom,
freedom to laugh,
to move
without the heavy phantom of despair?
Where is the form of beauty
unshaken in its veil simple and pure? Where is the warmth of heaven
pouring its dreams of love in broken
spirits?
It has to
be from here,
right this instance,
my cry into the world.
My cry that is no more mine,
but hers and his forever,
the comrades of my silence,
the phantoms of my grave.
right this instance,
my cry into the world.
My cry that is no more mine,
but hers and his forever,
the comrades of my silence,
the phantoms of my grave.
It has to
be from here,
forgotten but unshaken,
among comrades of silence
deep into Welfare Island
my farewell to the world.
forgotten but unshaken,
among comrades of silence
deep into Welfare Island
my farewell to the world.
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