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Ames De Marbre

The guardian angel descends from his obscure limbo,
to eternally rest on the cold body of the beign.
His melancholic face, empty of sensations, watches over the dead,
motionless, rock of stone, on a parallel world.
Angel of sadness invading your tomb.
It seems that a tear rolls down your cheeck.
Your soul, has maybe rejoined its immortality,
thanks to him you'll dream again and forever.
Schutzengel deiner seele, der heute wieder weggeht,
um ewig stille zu suchen.

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