When in morning the world is newer,
amber light shining over our skin,
how must we rise without feeling regret
as leaving the bed means loosing this view?
The window is wet of morning dew treasures
the light brings in newer shades of pure bliss,
colouring black birds already singing.
How do we rise on mornings like this?
The red roofs cover up the darkest sins
pretending brightly there has never been
the pain nor shame that stays so well unseen,
a silent fight wherein nobody wins.
As sadly conquered every other night
the silence lies to keep the sacred peace.
She tries to fly away in safe ideas
so when it’s dark, she finds some love in light.
She will survive her unloved youth in spite
of all that happend in this silent place,
but always silently, for just in case
she keeps a burning lamp throughout the night.
The truth is hidden till her dying day,
as there is nothing good for her to say.