Sombre
Wipe that smile off thy face;
Canst thou not see bleeding tears and pain,
From which set thine burning in flames;
Ashes of scars that prick insane.
The sacred stone has melt to flesh;
Cry not handsome nor cutie prey,
Vicious world of loving-hate;
How have thine burn in felon fate.
Perhaps its karma;
Perhaps its fate;
Perhaps its fuming of passion's rage.
Thy dosage rain of needled canes;
Scorn thy heart with acid aim.
Spirit dissolve in phantom phase.
Oh when will that lining shine again;
Deepest thee far far away.
Craving thoughts of unsettled fame.
Couldn'st speak of songless grain.
