A Whisper Underneath The Bark Of Old Trees

The Reflection

I found no solution
In the truth
That my madness can be cured
I found no wisdom
In the songs
The elders sung to me
I stared through diamonds
Oh so cold
Saw young beauty grow old
Bleeding promises renewed with old lies
In the glare of
Burning skies

The Confession

Can I then, can I then do otherwise? Do I not have this cursed thing in me? The fire, the voice, the torment. Always, always I must walk through streets! And always I feel someone following me - that's myself. It pursues me. Silently. But I still hear it. Yes, sometimes it seems to me as if I myself am chasing after me. I want to get away from it, run away from myself. But I can't. Can't escape from myself. Must, must go the way it drives me. Must run, run - endless streets. I want to get away, I want to get away! And with me run the ghosts of mothers, of children. They never go away. They are always there! Always! Always! Always! Except when I do it. Then, then I stand in front of a poster and read what I have done and read and read..! What have I done? But I know nothing. But who will believe me? Who knows what it looks like inside me? How it screams and roars in there. How I must do it! Don't want to - must! Don't want to - must! And then a voice screams and I can't hear it anymore. Help! I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't...

The Salvation ~ The Forgiveness

I raged through the jungle
And died in the trees
To dwell in the rivers
Which flow to the seas
What if this madness
Seems to be
Nothing else but my real me