ALONE WITH THE SNOW

 

plasmatics-life:

Night Walk – {by Tiina Törmänen} | {Official WebSite}

 

 

A walk in the dark.

Alone in the park.

The cold creeps.

The trees shiver.

The falling snow whispers.

The stars sparkle.

No voices.

No noises.

Alone with the snow

And the bitter cold.

WASH AWAY MY PAIN

 

 

WASH AWAY MY PAIN

Please wash away my sorrow and pain.
Let it flow down the streets with the rain.
Dissolved in torrents of despair and sadness,
Joining others on its way past the madness.

The ocean may take it far away
To places, we cannot even say,
Where no one recognizes its sting 
Or knows the infliction it can bring.

Let the rain grow harder with its might,
Becoming hail on this fateful night.
I want to be free of all traces
Of unwanted feelings and faces.

My body grows cold from the rain.
It stands clean and free from the pain.
Shivers create a path on my spine
As I wait in the dark woods of pine.

I hold my head high to the wet spray;
It becomes a mist of blue and grey.
The faucet has turned off for the night,
Leaving me feeling clean and so right.


 

PARADISE LOST

Source:

 

Trees fill the conservatory.

Wolf leads us inside.

A domed paradise of greenery.

We follow him through bushes

that move to a music all their own.

Humid air coats our skin.

The ground shivers beneath our feet.

The trees lift up their massive roots.

Scraggly arms reach for us.

Time to leave this artificial paradise.

THE DEAD GAME

SPARKLE FOR ME

 

Sparkle for me ocean blue.

I’ve come here only for you.

Your beauty tempts me this night.

I have given up the fight.

 

 
Wrap you cold arms around me.

I long to be light and free.

Pull me deeper inside.

I have long lost my pride.

 

Your water feels cold and nice.

I’ve become a block of ice.

Icicles hang from my hair.

But I don’t have any fear.

 

Warm me.

Soothe me.

Hold me.

Feel me.

 

I trusted you.

I had loved you.

I am nothing.

I am no more.

 

 

A NIP IN THE AIR

 

A nip in the air.

A chill in my bones.

The Dead will be here.

And in our own homes.

 

Palm trees will shiver.

The whole ground will quake.

Up from the river.

Or the nearest lake.

 

Take me far away.

From this creepy place.

Let us run and pray.

Make an about face.

 

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist