...nous nous quittâmes sans regrets et sans larmes.
Un simple passage entre deux êtres, deux âmes.
Un sourire et un geste de la main,
ce fût la fin de la nuit... le soleil du matin.
scene from the skies,
above the clouds and rising.
and a sigh.
Memories and Smile remain.
We shake hands
and go on out our separate ways.
Then I wake and remember...
(dedicated to Gregory Campinaire - 06.10.1978 - 11.09.2018)
...finding the books in the trash,
the burning ash,
of a nation's loss.
It was only a shadow,
so I pulled the trigger.
...your damage echoes beyond the borders of your foul walls.
The economies of war force you to create a new one every week.
How could you reach the Heavens with such a thought?
...if I ever cursed your name in whispers,
then I humbly bow in shame.
...if I ever struck your love in anger,
then I beg you do the same.
I was held down by your beauty
and by your clothes of nothing-more...
...by the window and the rain...
...the belief I was your whore.
I have forgotten nothing of our moments,
of your white dress
and of your name.
There are regrets with every loss
mine are at shame.
I am not aksing for forgiveness,
nor am I yearning for your voice,
in our lust we were both guilty,
in our vice and in our choice.
...a silhouette is torn upon my Soul,
much like the heart you broke for me.
I was the Liar, you were the Thief...
isn't it time we both Ghost... free...?
...I can lie to myself, but not to you.
Picking up the pieces of your broken promises.
...your crippled words were noticed
and the loss came to a void.
Escaping each other from what was expected,
to and fro, until all doors we closed.