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Murder in the town

blood on the door

footprints on the ground,

the axe in his hand, governs

Darkness in his refuge

there´s someone looking for something

without justice and future

paralysed, waiting with fucking devils

black stains floating

shadows without definition

he hears, footsteps and shouts

but he laughs at his end

The anger involved him,

being tied and bloodstained

walking between cries,

the tree waits for him

The rope on the branch

marks the unconsciousness

the rope on the neck

fits its reality

balancing in his life´s watch

between laughs and laughs

the man bothers

he can´t exposing his reasons.

The night fell down

and the corpse hung up

without waiting, without any hurry

blowing with the smooth wind

He shrinked as the time goes by

being part of the ground

and his soul fell down from the tree

into the oblivion caverns

his memory is anguish

and from his cursed tree,

the rope fell down

and his story with it.