I wait for you to turn the sunlight off.
I keep on begging you to fill my veins with blood,
I keep on begging to pick splinters of my heart,
I keep on begging you and naming you a God,
As I could never dare to be with you in love,
And gates to Angels' city still are closed for me,
For fameless victim, who crawls at like the insane, 
And this dawn sky declined to present a cold rain,
Which would embrace my body, treating hungry pain...
But who am I to force you to realize my plea?