Collection Of Dead Portraits کے بول

I feel they stare at me With their eyes closed Sleeping and defenseless Like their existence were From the past remains and pieces Like my forgotten episodes Confined in old book's dust Fire In this court you are convicted of treason You are condemned to be erased Remember the darkness Colors have disappeared Lost in the new born texture Your hidden childhood anguish so quiet Your faces move around the deafening silence Lost name I can hear your screams under my fingers I tear the pages away, crush them Collection of dead portraits Never mind this desperate howling None can understand Killing you once again doesn't matter Something has devoured me Rage and conflict burn Sweet and terrifying You are just things All the pages I've ripped willl be back in vain To torture me and play my inner theater again The candle's flame makes the lines of your silhouette dance Mom you look so beautiful in pieces