Something rises in the evening sun
as it's touching the roof of my sky.
And I wonder, how would it be
your sharpened hand above the sea
to stretch my heart once more on thee
and simply melt it by your beam.
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
If I were the winter which would freeze your soul
I'd turn your tears into the very icicles
wherewith I'd raise a 'till the Sun monument
just to warm you with soft rains where I shall swim
and I'd even drown myself,
happy,
for the spring that came.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 2:41 PM UTC
shout your war
and I'll train myself into the soldier
your army shall never have.
shout your love
and I'll get dressed with the very coat
within the war shall never be.
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 2:54 PM UTC
There are rumours above the city of lights
that its light might turn on the very night,
and their fangs shall glorious glance within the dark
obviously ready to fight, as they surely might.
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 10:26 AM UTC
my eyes are getting burnt
by the beams of the sun,
and I'm blinking...
my legs are crossing the desert
and the beams are everywhere,
and I'm blinking...
my heart is seeking for night
and its dark remains in soul,
and I'm blinking...
as I'm blinking through the desert,
through the beams and through the dark,
what the sand I sail astray,
what the blaze I make it dust...
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 10:25 AM UTC
What burden thy mind could be
if you spread out your origin,
and what grief shall you gain on thee
if the desert you made shall bring it's mean.
Mar 22, 2018
Mar 22, 2018 at 10:07 AM UTC
Here we stand together deep
Me, my mind and I,
Still I seek my grief to weep
In those depths of breathing lie.
We do feel the feral fear
Me, my mind and I,
Where my mind’s trying to clear
Our ciclic bis deny.
We stare beauty in the depths
Me, my mind and I,
They’re compelling me to breast
All my feelings’ passing by.
So we teach ourselves to feel,
Me, my mind and I,
And my heart’s startin’ to fill
With the tears of the cry.
Then we see the light in sky,
Me, my mind and I,
One in run, one in deny
While my tears started dry.
‘til the light they still kept beating,
Just my mind and I,
Now they’re hurt and they are bleeding
And die.
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 6:40 AM UTC
Mother, mother;
Give me eyes to see a world
Where my heart becomes that bold.
Mother, mother;
Give me ears, to hear my foes
While they talk within the wolves.
Father, father;
Give me strength to can at least
Mock them back with their own fists.
Brother, brother;
Keep me safe to can grow up
And smash them all to help your nap.
Sister, sister;
Give me hug to feel the love,
That shall help me to lead the gov.
Jesus, Jesus;
Give me hope to see the better
And to love the human feather.
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 8:03 AM UTC
We all know
That we shall fade
First, we grow
And hope for late.
You saw dozens people
Singing last beside your art,
And behind there was the reaper
Waiting for the final taunt.
Not for long
Your souls were ardent
And their faces
Were so glow
And not because the fire's advent
But because the lyrics' known.
Your music told us that
There's no life without the art
No give in, that was the story
And you felt your lyrics glory.
You were fighters, I admit
Fighting souls, against the lit
And your lyrics don't fit
With your bodies in the pit.
And the fire, after all
Was the unmerciful goal
And the reaper near the wall
It was death, beneath the soul.
Jan 20, 2018
Jan 20, 2018 at 10:38 AM UTC
"even the most ironed door can be opened"
he said: "maybe I'm not the key you were looking for, but I'm the key you need"
behind plenty-ironed door
there's the carpet streched on floor
and the door itself it's locked
trodden by the savage cold.
but inside it is as cold
as the man forgot the hearth
and there's nobody too bold
to fulfill the chimney's glow.
on the walls I see your pictures
memories with your belonged
with their wings against our curse
fainted down, when the time have bonged.
from outside I see a ruin
a poor house ready to fall
and I hate that you're not doin'
and refuse your only call.
back inside, I see the carpet
outstretched down, being still trampled
by your once beloved and left
it is ****** without a hope
triggered by your burdened rope.
near the pictures stands the clock
counting down your priceless life
with your mind against your soul
so's the hollow 'gainst the whole.
why you keep your ironed door
locked up, fallen in knees
with your carpet
burdened on the floor
when the-entire house still seek
for your own evanesced keys?
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC