SomBom

Nevermore

Cradle Of Filth

Thy hands were open,
embraced my soul.
Foretold allacy,
now prophesied truth.
Happiness is reachable,
out to stretch a hand.
Touch divine feelings
hang on to something real.

Caressed with warmth,
confidence surge within.
Chaotic joy in turmoil,
surreal subconscious realized.
Last hope survived,
lasted for ages.
Internal faith,
was definitely worthwhile.

I worship thee,
my life in thy hands.
Do not forget me..

espera

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