Weeping with dry eyes
Incredible stuff... Me, a gothic, a metal fan, listening only to the emotional traditional music of Potugal (beloved land), Fado. Especially, to my dear and beloved Amália Rodrigues. My soul needs to cry, but my eyes are so dry!! Listening to Amália singing the Fado "Prece", I imagine myself inside that song.
Departing and never come back... Go and die in Portugal... Why not now?! Why not at night? Why not in any morning, afternoon, night, beach, street, house, concert, etc.? I wonder how it feels to be dead and I would like to try it... I write and my inner weep calls me... Can you listen it?! Can you even see me?! I don't think so; I'm everything that you hate, I'm all that you run away of, I'm everything that you wished gone, I'm all that'll become dust... I'm a secret and a famous legend... I am me and I'll always me, till death tear us apart!!!
Departing and never come back... Go and die in Portugal... Why not now?! Why not at night? Why not in any morning, afternoon, night, beach, street, house, concert, etc.? I wonder how it feels to be dead and I would like to try it... I write and my inner weep calls me... Can you listen it?! Can you even see me?! I don't think so; I'm everything that you hate, I'm all that you run away of, I'm everything that you wished gone, I'm all that'll become dust... I'm a secret and a famous legend... I am me and I'll always me, till death tear us apart!!!
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