I lost my uncle,
That died of a gun shot to the head.
He was on a machine to keep him alive.
He only stand alive for a few hours,
Than he past away.
He lost his freedom,
To see the sun and the sky.
To see his family,
To grow.
The beauty is gone.
The murder of all of nights,
Is the blackist of nights to kill another,
To make them to lose the freedom of life,
The death of a rose,
The black rose that means judged will be done.
But heaven is there for him,
Where you are now.
You are free,
From all the things are bad.
Your free again.
The death of a soul,
That greiving that is black,
The tears that never stop,
The sorrow that won't go away.
My freedom is lost.
The greif of a dead heart,
That lost a love one,
Or lost a love.
To love another,
Is to love yourself.
To see your heart,
To love another.
Is so beautiful,
So free.
To see the love of another |
