Cloud 4 (11)

Your eyes bleed innocence, but is it simply blood?
“I meant to hurt all but me, and not a single one”
Stop shaking, you coward, You are a freak
But don’t you worry, I know you will break in front of me

The way your legs are crossed, its too much to believe
The words you say to us, are simply bullshit
Who are you, what you do?
When you are born? and tell me the truth

Your questions and acquisitions
Hurt his body like hell
Like many arrows
Is piercing his heart, well

Maybe there is life, after death and defeat
Maybe its true, but you have to go, through me
Who knows what, No one returns, from being dead
But trust me, my pain, will make you break

I’m tired of your interrogations
I want you, to feel
That painful sensation
If answers, you not give

Know that the end of your life, has came
When you were captured alive, to this hell
I know, I will make you say
Your every piece of bones, will tell

Only, I want the answer from you
The only thing, that can save you
From me and from my dreams
That leaves you haunted, in your sleep

From where comes, the love
Comes he’s nightmares
The fright of interrogation,
and all those voices he, always hears

He does not know, what to
He does not know, what to say
If there is something
That will forgive him, from this hell

The sun is up
Beautiful and bright,
But until they removed this, painful cup
It’s just interrogation lights

Just because, you don’t know
Why he does, “all things he do”
Doesn’t mean, you can tell him
“You are not human, you are rude”

People, make mistakes
They get their punishments,
But give them, a chance
Only once, to realize them

He’s sorry, his priorities
Are not that of yours,
He’s sorry, that the life you gave
Him, can never be yours

You wasted all your money
On something you call “defeat”
He’s a disgrace to your womb
Everyday, you make him remember it

He’s sorry, he can’t
be the perfect son to you,
For he’s looking always,
Ways to being dead, pretty soon

You can laugh at him, laugh in his thoughts,
But once he is cold,
Remember, the last mute touch
That lingers, is a farewell story, told.

4 thoughts on “Interogation

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