My Perfect Disease
Falling Leaves
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One step more to And edge, with a rotten soul and peaceless mind.
Looking down to the mirrors, of my dark destiny.
Your face comes front, as I close my eyes.
Thinking what is life for, without you embracing me.
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Feel so Cold,
Slowly breathing,
Dead inside,
With pale shoulders.
You are, My Perfect Disease.
With the wind whipping my face, drying my tears.
Deep down within me, living the beauty of curse, day by day.
All hopes, runs dry with the absence of your light.
You were my last hope to escape, from all the sufferings.
And now, I'm standing here, Drowning in the ocean of emptiness.
Realizing the beeauty of the dying leaves
What Have You Done?