The Rose of my heart

The grief of the truth

Since the day she died,

exactly one awfull day ago,

my heart and head are not one part,

not strong together anymore.

My head knows she's gone, 

and she'll never come back.

but my heart says: "it's a lie,

she's living, she's still here."

I'm trying to tell myself the truth,

but I only wanna believe the lie,

the lie of a living human.

When I fall asleep with the kindness of that lie,

I'll wake up with the grief of the truth.

I've never loved a lie, never hated the truth.

But in one second I changed.

It's funny to see how a human can change,

from black to white or dark to light.

like a bird, flying to the south.

But when he sees the storm,

he changes his way, and goes back to the west.

But live's not like flight,

and human's are not like the birds.

I cannot change my destination,

I gotta go forward, not going back.

I wonder what birds will do when they lose some of there fly-mates,

will they die also or will they go back?

I don't know.

But I know what I gotta do

I lost her, but I'm stil flying.

so I still gotta fly,

fly to the south.

in my own.