Eternal lost souls

And they found the body, near a house full of graves and hunting images sorrounding the joly spirit of ghosts. It was there looking like an animal scrutching to his nightmare where it would be tortured with his own mind. Frozen souls whispering in the corridors of death and a unique wounded around his arm, letting the blood go down to the basement. His fingers were grapping others. The real love that unification emanates, was definetly sacred. The memory of his grunting voice and his taugh hands arrive, to his head. And he looked so miserable doomed that anyone would feel sorry for him. trembling and talking in a language barely known for any mortal. Those windows of desesperation looked so obsesely needed, but no one was there to help him survive. He was alone like he used to be all the time. It was a cursed what concerned him. It was the curse of the unstopable head of lies. A terrible lier, a despicable man. Suffering the same suffering he had imposed before. Dry my sorrows, wash my sins, clean my imagination to his silently truth, rinse that obscure frustation and take me with you. She did know what he was saying. Standing there just looking upon a misery. Watching his slow down death. So much pain for him, that it gets to a point when he didn´t feel at all. It was one thing over the next one, and the next one. The sunrise never came and in the sunset a heart stopped. The transition of the situation continued but there was one person left. The emptyness of his heart was unbelievable true, and she knew it. Carefully sitting next to him, she started touching his taugh hands, very kindly, very timidly. What just happened?. His dawn contrasting hers, a darkness and a light so together and so apart. And the memories had just consumed him. So she went out the basement, locked the door up and went upstairs to the attic, picked a watch to back down the time, again.