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If eyes are the mirror of the soul |
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You will find in mine the scorn and apathy |
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You will read my hatred as in a curs'd book |
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You will see yourself as I see you |
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It is a mirror somber and opaque |
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Which protects me, which stifles me |
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A great ditch around the heart |
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Which rejects, which estranges me |
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There is a world in my head dead world where nothing lives |
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And it is there I am, too far |
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Far too far, to be rejoined |
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A crown of thorns is still a crown |
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I am a king in a kingdom of suffering |
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I have taken my time to reach this stage |
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I have taken pains to torture myself |
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To descend, to descend |
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Into pain, I exist |
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And if my brain is numbed |
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The thorn in my flesh |
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Can overcome apathy |
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There is a glory in humiliation |
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A throne to be taken, a crown to win |
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I have no more tears, |
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And my smile has lost its brilliance |
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I have forgotten who I was, |
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I have killed my emotions |
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Crushed, empty, weary, |
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Always standing, I am a tree |
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Awaiting the lightning. |
