the grey barracks, love's distancenna tremor shaves off the morning dewnnnna beautiful, superfluous phrase; love's nonsensennoh, the magnificent, beloved darknessnnfollowing the disturbance, a stage upon the bedsheetnnloosely entwined fingersnnnnin passion, this hand of indecent affection, he who begins trembling,nnthe dawn that won't come to your scarlet lipsnni, on top of you, while he is suffering,nnwill not let go until i finishnnand that sigh turns whitennnndon't ruin it, don't make me speaknnthere is no love in this pool of bloodnnnni have one wish for younni just want you to smile, that's allnnthe pomegranate that blossomed red,nnbloomed in my ripened dreamnnnnwhat fascinates me is, as if on a tightropennthe dizzying affairnnas far as the sound that rang out, soakednnand completely soddennnnnthe poisonous arm that begins to link us, a shadow in the twilightnnin the flawed container of your true spirit, the volume waversnnupon this extreme act, the rain of love i tastennfrightened and suffering, i declare this lovennnnwhat, you love me?nndon't make me laughnni will forget this unrealized lovennnni swear on your HEAD