Far rests the day Which the silence I beg For breaking my thoughts, and then my spirit Nurtured would be… by the flames of creation Lost on the dead days of my history I remember that once I desired That my tears would never get born from my disbelief Now I cry, now I cry… cry… disbelief On the ashes of my memory Drown in the house of ghosts And this world’s dead, courts the funerals of The bodies without a whisper of life From the silence I’ve searched in my heart From the tears, I didn’t want to suffer The flames from the fireplace, show me the Lost pieces on the horizon Can a man be reborn in his disbelieves Can a man die in his believes When the silence does not answer, the tears fall Nothing is left Just to be the lord of your own ashes
