Yami
Apr 19 2008 | Views 61 |
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Tags: golden dust menstrual blood dark death palms mountain chain
Tags: golden dust menstrual blood dark death palms mountain chain
Two lines
One runs hither, the other speaks
I have the mountain chain unchained
A path has been found
Restless waters gather and tremble
In the hollow of my palms
Will you ever be able to hear me
and still to you I will speak
to you I will answer
The Smoke wets
Menstrual blood with golden dust
From the Dark death he arrives.
Now from the north east he comes
He for whom she waited
So eagerly.
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