Beatting.
Inside of us.
Beatting.
But it will stop.
The terror.
When it stops.
You may cry.
You may scream.
It is always different.
The sorrow.
The fear.

When will it happon to me?
Why will it happon to me?
I do not know?
Please not let it be soon.

Beatting.
For a set amount of time.
But sometimes it changes.
It ends before its time is over.
But why? Why? Why?
Please do not leave me soon.

I love you.
But you left.
Please do not leave me here alone.

I love you.
Please do not leave me again.
Forever.
Till ever.
I will miss you.

under the shell, inside
my chest, lies a hole,
blacked and beatting still
all the sorrow burn it down
at my 20s, later the pain becomes
a chain hollow and vain

and after all y become free,
from the chains self made
for contain the pain,
only need the one
, that breaks the spell
hearing
nutshel  in my heart

he give my stregth to persist
untill im dead y will die free,
as a man not a creep or a shame,
just a ***** man, trying to be free
fromm pain and deceit.

sacre femme set my freee
fromm the pain and release me
fromm  the burden of shame
and the eyes in my back, looking
some girl to wash them
and take the stains by loving me.

as a beast looking for the one, who
let him free fromm chains of the curse
just by love the sacred connection
that perhaps will set me free.