The Pourtrait – by Forest

I bag, don’t set me free, just wait,
Feel sadness, sorrow, pain behind my smile…
You don’t remember me, or maybe I have changed,
Sucked dry, injured, buried for a while.

Now tide will never feel again the moon,
Forever mute torn strings of silver harp,
My songs, my words forgotten, lost, untrue,
Will vanish, stay abandoned, melt and hide.

Your eyes… like jewels in the necklace,
Bronze… your hair like metal of the ancient kings.
Not me, I’m lost forever, and my voice,
Become uncurtain murmur in the green.

My tears? Only salty drops, no more,
You do not have to listen, free to leave,
I know my fault, my crime. And I deserve
The death for stealing kisses like a thief.

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