I found me lost in a crowd of zombies,
Searching the perfume of an empty rose,
I following their gloomy steps, their sadness.
I try to wake them all, but it’s useless,
But I never give up. I’m still aware of dawn,
Aware of the gently rain, the liquid goddess,
The tenderness of a fugitive sight.
Pretending that life is something more,
No matter the furious waves of winter,
The infernal sun of summer. I’m glad to be
Dreaming in a everlasting autumn, with wings of
Madness on my shoulders, with a perfect smile
Of a corpse. Wandering as a pilgrim in a foreign