Is it all that must happen now – I ask.
It’s cold when she is not near;
And it’s heavy and you feel like to run.
Straight into your deepest fear;
Nor warmth comes in – I say.
I’ve chased it for years,
I’ve been on main-road to the hell – I say.
It broke your protection;
It broke your shell – my brother.
You reached for a syringe and you left it in your vein.
You left us cry in sorrow and vain.
You slammed it right at its faith;
It took over and called for a saint in a white dress and bare feet, I must be insane;
For my compassion for fight that you took.
Look you fell;
Fuck yeah you fell.
At the end rest there my brother
You won’t need to make no trades,
With no demons and his maids.
Poem by Serge De Asilgarajevs