Anichimus, can you taste
The warm kisses of dead love
Lurking in the shadows of memory?
Will you caress the course rope
That has gracefully accepted my life
To free yours?
You know you could have left
Some blood at the bottom of my heart
Now, my blue-black pain dangles
At the end of the rope
I was the deer escaping the jagged mountains
Of cupid's firing arrow
Before it burned a different color than red
My tears were mourning rain
Falling in the heart of winter
Anchimus, I had no choice