sábado, 19 de dezembro de 2015

A Morte do Amor

Her penultimate sighs

Called softy on the kindling wind

Her saintly eyes filling with tears, lifting with truth

And then a golden flash like the onset of Heaven

Leaving her screams breaking my heart

And in the grip of fire

I knew the death of love...

The Death Of Love /  "Godspeed On The Devil's Thunder"/ Cradle of Filth / 2008

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