I don't want him, I want her.
For he is a tree. A tree that grew the size of a mountain and that everyday deploys its leaves and branches,
Touching the sky and carressing the ground. Its bark is rough like his hands, and his eyes never lie.
I wish I could love this tree, strong and tall.
He, in hindsight, may be desired and adored by all, since healthy plants are now becoming fewer and fewer, like gold in this river, as they all rot one day.
But I cannot want the tree, I want his friend. I want it all,
Her smile, her hair, her eyes , her sense, her body, her soul.
I want to drown in her heart, like I do in a bottle of wine.
They say I'm amoral, and live without a fear because of my lack of religion,
That my love is this way, because I've never found salvation.
My heart is impure, and my thoughts filfthy.
An outlaw for most, un-human for the rest, rejected by family and friends.
But I'd gladly die at the stake, if only for a brief moment, she'd notice me.
She robbed my essense, before I even knew it.
Put me, the victim at the guillotine. I'd lovingly, wait for the blade to touch my neck,
If I knew that among the blood-thirsty crowd, that all came for the spectacle, she's be hidding,
Ready to see my empty head fall.
I was already dead from the start, the heart knows best what it will fall for.
My shame has grew, now it's inside, living in my organs.
She looks so cool, but won't save me.
Call it passion, call it a sin. I don't care, I'll never admit
And I'm waiting for the final blow,
Which will leave me on the ground like an empty shell.
My sick heart without a beat.
Making my corpse a place where all rats and insects meet.
