lunes, 7 de marzo de 2011

The Obssesive compulsive disorder

And again…

An open door, should I close it?
I wonder to myself what is behind,
Should I see? It will take a moment,
Just a look, I want to know.
An open door, I won´t close it,
I want to know what is hidden in the darkness,
Should I see? I´ve nothing to loose now,
Just a look, finally I´ll know.

A step, I´m inside, she doesn´t see me,
Should I speak? Should I whisperer?
I know, I should leave, but I can´t,
I can not wait to touch her,
To grab her soul and taste her spirit,
I can not wait to drink his life,
With a touch of my lips, with a touch
Of my hands, I can not wait to release her,
But I have to, I´ve to resist my temptation,
In this moment I’m supposed to run
But my reason fades away in the shining lights,
And let me at the mercy of my instincts.

Going softly, like a ghost in the night,
The silence is deafening, so close and so far,
Just a thought, just a move, just a word,
I can barley understand the main emotions,
I try to control what I feel but I can´t fight,
It will take a moment, a beautiful moment
To think that I own her, to think that she disappears
Between the touch of my hands
And the edges of this darken night.

An open door, I was forced to close it,
Nothing that was behind
 Will remain for my satisfaction,
Nothing that was behind will stay
For my regret, it was just a look,
Just a gaze, it was just a thought in my mind,
It was an open door that I should abandon,
But again I felt attracted to my obsession,
And it is something I can´t stop or ignore,
It is something I´ve to do want it or not,
These are some habits I can´t break,

I´ve to wash my hands, but there is no sin to clean,
Days have passed before showing me
Memories that I want to forget, that I want to hide,
Shall I forgive myself for something I can´t comprehend?
Why my soul is pushing my chest?!
Walk to die, die to live and live to cry,
I cry, begging for find a sign beyond the night,
A voice beyond the dark, a name in my hands,
Is God watching me now? Where is my hope?
Where is my door? My hands? My sins? My mind?

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