Depression
Oh, sister Death, when will you come for me?
Why do you take those who don\'t want to go,
when \'tis I who needs it the most?
Free my soul from the nightmare that I, myself created.
Free me from the burden of the Endless, for I see the light nomore.
Even here, in the kingdom of my own making,
I cannot conjure a dream to realease me from this darkness.

And so I cry out to you my sister, Death.  
Stefán
1985 - ...


Ljóð eftir Stefán(i)

Spegillinn
Skýjasæng
Hugarlundur
Ábyrgðarlaus
Þoka
Jól
Bakkus
Úr formi
Lögleg nauðgun
Óboðinn gestur
Angel
Smíði
Kúkur
This black day
Til
123
Waking death
Depression
Prejudice
Yfirgnæfandi heimska
Donde?
Sanskrit
Contemplating the sun
Night
Greed
Of cigarettes and life
Fantasy
Limra II