What will be when we meet saying final "good-bye",
When a hero is dead but no one can cry.
There are winds in the street, there are playbills in sheets.
Only hopes are alive, and I don't know why.
Hearts and souls are in pain. Lives are empty and weak.
Someone's bound by a chain and his fate is so sick.
There's a way to survive but no place to escape.
We are actors and play in the world of the raped.
We are broken and tired of the game, of the life
In a theater of lies and false little smiles.
All the papers are signed, all the jazz is on-line.
The producer is standing undoubtedly blind.
What will come after that? Dreamer's loosing the set.
Look, the minutes are candles, melted and drained.
Silly actors still play, play some heroes again
Who believe in a hangman to cure their complaints.
09.11.2008
Далия Рухам
© Даллия Рухам
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