Can you hear the furious beating of that pump?
Can you see the teeth eating at those veins?
Can you feel the vines of fear rooted deep?
Can you taste the bitterness of those memories?
It's not some disease but it's sick,
Its neither a beauty nor a tragedy
It's my heart and its sympathy.
It's my love and your pity.
I hear the roaring in your heart.
I see the red of your blood.
I feel the trembling in your hands.
I taste the sweetness of it all.
It's not an illusion but its tricks.
It's neither romance nor symphony.
It's my hate and its beauty.
It's your love and my cruelty.
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