Violin after midnight

It's a rose I'm after, the most beatiful thing of all. Many wish it and dream of it. I look for it 'cause it's perfection, it's a dream, a escape, a magic, a sweet melody played by cellos...

But I start to acknowledge I'm after a thing that's deep inside shadows. Don't know if everyone see those shades, but I do.

It's beautiful, but I don't actually know it deep. I wish it most, dreams and tears and colapses for that black rose; but it's the finest perfection, I need this rose.

Bare dreams are harmless, but proximity hurts. I approach a rose - I don't know its scent, its essence at all - and it hurts. Evil forces, too many wishes and dreams and needs, and so it's away again. Blood and tears are lost again, and again I don't have myself at all, my pieces get scattered through hearts.

You don't having a part of yourself surely makes you crash to reality, as a falling stone in a world of glass. It disturbes you lots. Maybe it's my lonely soul, that dreamin' of roses, black ones or not, drunk in poison or purely asleep.

Only Ravena knows my deep, and I'm still wrapped in chains longing for a rose that can make me feel a soul...



[a quem não se sente a vontade com inglês, apenas ignore...]