...and neither am I...

Maio 2006




My guardian angel has swollen eyes and tear trails down her face. She dresses in white, but her dress is unclean. My guardian angel is very sad, is very tired. She has a dagger hidden behind her back. Tell me, shall I dance with the knife or shall I dance in my blood (since I cannot dance with you...)? My guardian angel is mute. She drops her head, eyes gazing the floor. And then all happened too fast: a shinning, the cold, the warmth... My guardian angel is no more...