10 December 2011
No point in calming the flame, let it burn through our anger
When the smoke hits your lungs, it’ll wake you from slumber
Despite the tremendous heat you stand fast in your white dress
Like an angel without wings, so serene and so righteous
But I don’t envy your pain or your brilliant illusions
I find it hard to explain, your choice to live in seclusion
Your thoughts are random at best, concoction without reason
Those teary eyes are not enough for us to forget your treason
Traitor Of Mine • Opuss № I