12

She has twelve and the head over my chest

I'm the waking hunger and can`t deal with that

I`m seventeen and her innocence was in me

Buried in blanks, sheets and pillows

Her pure white untouched skin

Remembering me what was to be untouched

What once I`ve lost

And can`t deal with that

And in this all whole world with

Maybe take her breath out was too much

Maybe I was too much

Too much scape for me to resist

Too much beauty for me to not drow in...