Tell me all your sins
I will be in your soft dream
I will try all your delights
Then caress your sleeping face
What do you feel when I am inside?
In your room, resting in your chair.
Watching you moving at the silent sound of your heart.
Talking to your cat, and ignoring your presence.
In your room the pictures of sadness
Hang on the walls, hiding the holes
There is nothing to do at your home
But to sit and to stare at your misery
Careless for the lives of the people
Sick mindless bastards, young and too old
In their homes, in their beds
Filth and ashes from the broken hopes
All are washed away by the tide to the sea
Crushing demons from the deep, burning pit
Stand at your doors, crawl in your bed
They beg you to tell them a short fairy tale
Before the endless, torturing sleep
They are like you. I feast upon you.
You take my life. I let you.
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