Sadness comes rarely, only at night, afternoon or in the morning. What's troubling me is this feeling of emptiness that's been wanting to suffocate me every time I step away from others. It's lurking, always prepared, always anticipating my soft hours so it can drop some knives in the vertigo and we can all have some fun with crows and tough air and broken glass and war and war dressed as peace.
I want wings not legs, I want kisses not stares, I want someone who's not there.
Mar 11, 2020
Mar 11, 2020 at 6:21 AM UTC
What awaits for us, I’m afraid, is no longer a matter to be fixed, it’s a matter to be waited upon.
Death of communication, degrading quality of society, the increasing low of the human mind.
To let yourself care is a foul choice.
Comfort is the goal, but comfort is such an easy thing to achieve.
To strive for something more is a mystery that needs explaining, but with time is going to be laughed at.
Leaders don’t provide security but only intensify disbelief and doubt.
With the sense of comradeship gone extinct goes courage.
One can’t change for the better when all we’re facing is change but a phony one, filled with false hope.
It’s not surprising that no one has ˝the itch˝.
What’s surprising is that we still get out of bed in the morning, ready for rescue, thinking that today may be the moment of turning.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 10:52 AM UTC
Take me down to Africa
Where rhythm moves the river
Where feet dance in dirt
Where spirits make a soul shiver
Child, feel life's worth.
Dec 30, 2019
Dec 30, 2019 at 9:39 AM UTC
Rhino eyes get watered from the sky
While I'm here saying goodbye
Those sullen never ending look a backs
But I never did cry.
Wood gets old and scarred
I remember the night you poured vain into my heart
Hollow was your eyes
But I never did cry.
Dogs barking all around
Never was there a more forlorn sound
The same thing's inside my mind
But I never did cry.
Following a bug up the wall
Hiding from the sun
I with it began to crawl
But I never did cry.
Brown lights **** with moths
The carnival's long gone
Summer breeze died young
But I never did cry.
I never did cry.
Dec 29, 2019
Dec 29, 2019 at 8:55 AM UTC
The cause of my reasons has no similarity to your thoughts and suffering
Your lips don’t move my mind and focus stays primarily on the background
Your eyes don’t reach me, I lied before in that unforgivable way and unfortunately I don’t see you
I see only with my blood, pressured with rage through my veins
And images, oh those reprobate veils under which you feed of me,
you tragically disregarded mirror, a misunderstood projection of someone who was someone, maybe myself, a long time ago.
Disoriented I thole, not knowing is getting too familiar.
The touch you give me, it’s angry, feels nothing in return
The touch becomes nothing and all falls together
Eyes, words, a hand, a soul
Begin to crumble under a table, glasses long before emptied
In hope to make you meet my eyes in the moment I should meet yours
In hope to make you touch me and in return feel the warmth
In hope to make you make me say the words you want to hear
I don’t know if you’re real but you’re more real than me
I know that for sure.
Dec 28, 2019
Dec 28, 2019 at 12:14 PM UTC
Anorexic branches of weeping willows
Get played by the wind
A hungry man pushes milk on a trolley
Strolls by corpses for their sins skinned.
All this shines under morning rays of Melancholy.
Soft sounds of Rachmaninoff
Make nature in frames move
Holy is the feeling of freedom
Every escape of mine freedom does approve.
All this shines under morning rays of Melancholy.
Silver collars of workmen
All washed and left to dry
Empty parks and streets get haunted
As years go by.
All this shines under morning rays of Melancholy.
Hordes of suits pour in crimson rooms
Stacked with greed
From floor to roof
Indeed fast they run when they smell the truth.
All this shines under morning rays of Melancholy.
Shadows go around
Green dies and again is reborn
Every year with even less sound than before
Corpses still hang, God wants more
And all this shines
'Till one day it sets on fire
Burnt is the last proud buyer
Melancholy stands still, stopping to admire
Then walks away, She understands;
The world has expired.
Dec 19, 2019
Dec 19, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
Trembles of the sea
Are trembles of your soft words.
Moonlight patches on the surface
Make up for your salted cheeks.
Cries from comforting depths
As abyss drowning your eyes.
Gentle brushes against the shore
Are hands wiping and whispering
- ˝No more.˝
The painful flight of birds
Is your soul dreaming
The sound of cheering
Is you saying my name
The play of violins
Is you singing and your display
In the silver mirroring game (we all play).
Hard wooden floors await your fall
But you only feel
Trembles of the sea,
Moonlight,
Depths.
They offer you the sky but you know that's just another cage
So every night you tap little bits of rage
In paper that listens
'Till one day it glistens
And again you hear
Soft brushes against the shore,
Pleasant hands wiping and whispering
- ˝No more.˝
Dec 19, 2019
Dec 19, 2019 at 4:51 AM UTC
Drying upon me
Silver strings that parade
All throughout town
Tonight for two minutes
Made me blind.
Warm lights speak of men who were braver than today
And I sit and listen, trying hard not to stare
I'll dig my eyes up hoping the hopes will go away just so I can feel and breathe better than I did yesterday.
Freedom must be a wild thing to possess
I wish my boots would take me where bliss is justified
Where there's no cries, no need for crimes
Where it's not so hard to make my mind satisfied.
Drying upon me
Silver strings that parade
All throughout town
Tonight for two minutes
Made me blind.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 4:38 PM UTC
Watching people drifting from one port to another
What matters is the trip say the others
But me, I wouldn't mind never coming to an end
Floating in an open sea until I start to fade
And stars above me sing to my name
For I touched them with words when they needed strength.
The oak wood softens as it never did before
It remembers my fists whenever we heard of wars
The sunlight still beams, dancing with the waves
My loved one still laughs like it's the first day we met
And the wind dries my eyes
That way I won't cry
When they come for me
And it's my time to say goodbye.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 4:30 PM UTC
Dead but free is what they talk about in alleys
Of whispers they make beds
And lay with their lies
While dreams stand aside, too close to the fire
As soon as they melt, the Lord becomes a liar.
Dec 16, 2019
Dec 16, 2019 at 4:23 PM UTC