If every vampire who said he was at the Crucifixion was actually there, it would have been like Woodstock.
I don't want to wake up, I want to sleep
To dream of you forever and again.
In real world, what is for me to keep?
From real world, what ever can I gain?

Your ghost is in my conscience on and on,
Your image always burns before my eyes,
I'm tired to death to stand and fight alone,
So tired that my joy of living dies.

You know, my dream, I'm planning to give up,
To play with them by their own rules,
I pray for help to my irreal love,
But know that the praying have no use.

And yet, again I choose to stand and fight
For hope one day I'll do it by your side.

@темы: Poems, william the bloody