By the kiss of knife
As if the burning sorrow weeps
as if the laughing horror brings
a new doom to every new day
Fallen behind no more has the time
to stay alive in the books of living
She combs her hair
looks into the mirror
to see her ghostly
self-portrait of unforgiven
The face that seems
like ice that thaw
and eyes that stare
into the oblivion uknown
She tries to take hold onto
something but no avail
only nothing inside nothing
so she only starts to wail
The huntress once has turned
to an image of apparition
no running blood dwelling inside
Just the faded life by the kiss of knife
as if the laughing horror brings
a new doom to every new day
Fallen behind no more has the time
to stay alive in the books of living
She combs her hair
looks into the mirror
to see her ghostly
self-portrait of unforgiven
The face that seems
like ice that thaw
and eyes that stare
into the oblivion uknown
She tries to take hold onto
something but no avail
only nothing inside nothing
so she only starts to wail
The huntress once has turned
to an image of apparition
no running blood dwelling inside
Just the faded life by the kiss of knife
oletus
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