Mcd
,
2001 ,
Autoproduzione
Genre: Dark
He sits with folded arms
Among ancient and mysterious things
The yellowed with age curtains are motionless
Wrinkles became furrows on his hands
White hair falling on the ground
He stays there
Waiting for the girl who will knock at the door
A sense of heavy pain freezes his shoulders
Oh no he is falling into the gulf again
He is falling into the gulf again
He starts
Like an old spirit gone through his body
The dusty arm-chair is motionless
No noise no creak
He was a slave of the eternal time
He can run after it only with memories
Those escape from his wisdom
Only false illusions of almightiness
Moments only deed moments (like gash in my brain)
Come quickly in his mind
Everything will be dust (he said)
Ancient dust like the one that is covering
His brittle body
Everything will come back to dust
Dust doesn’t allowed him to breathe
Gloud old ruins
In a spot of the loft
There’s no place where the ancient dust
Will lay its heavy and immortal hands
Except in the light
Centuries are passed
Waiting for the girl who will knock at the door
Maybe he will not have the strength to open it
His knees will tremble
He will crumble
In fine ancient dust
