The simbiosis of our minds go sharp
like the knives – in the back of The Four Riders,
deep in the necks of the spirits of Hell and Heaven,
between mine flash and yours. And before this
would sound like a prayer I`d rather see you
burried deep in the Slayer and his cross to
carry you `round and `round and then put you
down so sound – to scream and then to say
“Why the Hell did you pray?”
I praied for you and you praied(,) for I…have not
come across the Eye… of the Beholder to carry
me around the fields of ashes to scream the scream
of deep silence and the silence of the swans to carry
you `round…and `round…
and
`round.
To rest and to sleep beneath the waves of silver
pain joy remorse and smiles are all the feelings
you and I have given birth to these siblings,
before we parted to ride so close to one another
you said you would like so much more from each other.
Stoped in the middle of all this you gave gaze to
all the black and white in my life and I laughed for I knew
you were dead and buried and It was just an illusion,
the knife wasn`t sharp, the life was so short, the riders
don`t exist but I still sleep with you, deep
underneath.
