From a dream,
Of your lips,
Telling a story of love…

And a fake date,
Were I’m waiting,
Desperately for your embrace…

And a blunt saw,
Cutting slowly,
Like the regret of lost hope…

And the pain of
Memories…
Like a fresh wound dropping blood…

From a nightmare,
And the flinches when
Demons start tearing my soul…

For assuming,
That I could,
Break the thick chains round my neck…

For believing,
That with blinders,
I can fake unseeing you…

And for thinking,
That there is,
A balsam that kills the pain…

But your distance
Just like cancer…
Terminal, without a hope

Or at least is
Very costly…
Consuming until I am broke