This
is a dead land...
This is Cactus land...
Here
the stone images are raised...
Here they receive the supplication of a dead
man's soul
Under the twinkle of a fading star... Is it
like this?
Is it like walking alone in death's other kingdom?
at the hour when we are trembling?
Lips that would kiss may lie from prayers to
broken stones...
This land is narrow... it's the grave of
sorrow...
here the memory cries loud to realm once again
by time...
I came here to keep those memories of mine...
Is
it like this? It is like finding those agonies which hurts you more...
Lips
may lie...
oh really...but I don't know why should I cry?
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