The idols with the hundred hands
Life was an old idol, as old as the world:
Ninety-nine hands cutting, bleeding
And a little hand, the one with the veins of sadness,
Giving its bless to an anonymous morning.
Background: days of small mercies.
Life was an old idol, as old as the world:
Ninety-nine hands cutting, bleeding
And a little hand, the one with the veins of sadness,
Giving its bless to an anonymous morning.
Background: days of small mercies.