It’s true, I died that day
and the many days after,
so tormented
still tormented
and stained
It’s true, it resonates every raindrop
Caught in my hair, floating down skin
to die love from despair
The painter took, stole to keep
conscience and soul
for the sake of saviour
for his sake alone
‘now centuries pas and so many more to go, never again shall darkness feel so cold’
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