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I fight the turmoil in my
chest,
what can I do to get a bit of rest?
What's wrong with my heart,
I don't understand the fights I start?
As a child I was never afreaid,
always full of smiles and funny games.
Finally the
battle wears me out;
I'm lost without a doubt. I will wither,
I will fade away, slip into my unconscous mind.
By now my
wings were ripped apart,
they would no longer carry me far.
So I fell into a well, trapped by it's
evil surroundings and smell.
Until a
gentle softmess surrounds my being,
a touch of mercy and grave melt me within.
Fresh energy so strong and meek delivered by
a source unknown to me.
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