82da Entrada, Adagio: Epitaph, King Crimson

La verdad es que pasan los días y bueno… las cosas son como son… LOL! jajaja… me siento un poco “Awkward”…

Siento que he desperdiciado tanta, tanta energía y tanto, tanto tiempo dando vueltas en círculos sobre cosas inútiles… lo peor es que sigo haciendolo y esperando a que las cosas funcionen de una vez por todas.

¿Hay que ser realista? si, hay que darse cuenta que las cosas no cambiaran… mi Popea sigue enferma, cada vez que miro sus ojos y acaricio su cabecita me doy cuenta que en cualquier minuto dejará este mundo, y yo habré sentido que la he dejado tanto tiempo sola y abandonada por algo que quizá ni lo merecía… ¿cómo equilibrar las cosas? Señor ayúdame a no ser tan egoísta… ayúdame a equilibrar esta vida.

Please, give me all the peace and joy in mymind… oh I need it so hard… becouse all in my mind it’s falling down. My soul it’s breaking again… and I have to be strong… I have to seem strong for everybody… no one have to notice…

These words… are the only thing that really exist… I feel so lonely… the funny thing is… that he ins’t going to do anything… He would be there for everyone, not for me… he’s just to selfish to release his selfishness.

Treason… it’s heaviest than I though.

I’m on my own… as usual… on my own I’ll live the dead of my best friend, my family, my self, my world… that’s my fate… I wont fight anymore… I’m just tired… I’m tired of me… I wish I could disappear.

Please God, be mercyful.

I really wanna live my life magically… but it seems… that I haven’t realised that magic doesn’t exist.

 

 

The wall on which the prophets wrote
is cracking at the seams.
upon the instruments of death
the sunlight brightly gleams.
when every man is torn apart
with nightmares and with dreams,
will no one lay the laurel wreath
as silence drowns the screams.
Between the iron gates of fate,
the seeds of time were sown,
and watered by the deeds of those
who know and who are known;
knowledge is a deadly friend
when no one sets the rules.
the fate of all mankind i see
is in the hands of fools.
Confusion will be my epitaph.
as i crawl a cracked and broken path
if we make it we can all sit back and laugh,
but i fear tomorrow i'll be crying,
yes i fear tomorrow i'll be crying.