In the attic

In the attic for a long time has been the dark. 
Love all the soul of my lamp turned off. 
I walk in the dark here still, 
a lonely beacon of light might sometimes 
I reach. 

Respiration night I listen to, 
also can be lonely. 
Night shadows become part of the music, 
shadows of the blues wails of life. 

Many a lonely wanderer, 
here in the morning his journey. 
Own one of these anniversary, 
my dream is guarded by the mother earth. 

I have a blanket on me 
I'd pull, I remember the cold 
yesterday. It is a cry of pain 
the mirror that which was broken 
in silence. Not tomorrow now 
picture is displayed, and the time passes 
course. we hourglass 
Litter is turned, 
more 
again, and again.