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Rigor Mortis
by
Iskald
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Soon my mind goes wild, in the face of death I see the stars glowing beneath my soul I’m ill I’m sick I feel totally ravaged Mother, I told you that I was to sick Now I pick flowers from the garden of Eden In my last dream I dreamt about being a great warrior Now as I’m sinking to death I feel only despair I’m never going to be the one I was meant to be I am but a young orphan wanting a mother’s love But none of these things were given to me, I am all alone And now I’m lying here, with only my dreams Which you clearly remember …as I walk over. Rigor Mortis!
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