True joy phased
through melancholy lays
the parsonage,
That such of timedraws feared
eternity obeys.
But
I don't know you
just as much as
you don't know me.
Banal emptiness like
a street of maladies,
like a pulse without anyone
listening to it.
True joy phased
through melancholy lays
the parsonage,
That such of timedraws feared
eternity obeys.
But
I don't know you
just as much as
you don't know me.
Banal emptiness like
a street of maladies,
like a pulse without anyone
listening to it.