The sight is blurred - the fire is extinguished in the end
just the power of the imagination suggests there was a way
- the beginning was the end -
Self-alike from the beginning - unbalance circling - blunted grace
in crumbling time the rope is cut - it falls and whips into my face
until all consciousness is lost
What drives along the sharpest edge
what pulls into the dark
what closes doors - what blocks the way
what hurts and leaves no mark
what's lurking In The Dark
Is it the smell, or is it the colours and the glare
reminding me of days when time was still a thing to count
When grip still found a hold and stand was strong there was no doubt
just a faint idea of what has been and what might be
Everything turned dull - the brightest glow was in the eye
the mirror in the hall - corroded by the sand of time
The blind vacant spots irresistibly spread
some parts of the puzzle are already dead
When grip still found a hold and stand was strong there was no doubt
just a faint idea of what has been and what might be
The blind vacant spots irresistibly spread
some parts of the puzzle are already dead
Maybe I've taken some pieces myself
mislayed the instruction with no hope for help
What drives along the sharpest edge
what pulls into the dark
what closes doors - what blocks the way
what hurts and leaves no mark
what's lurking In The Dark