In the ruins of freedom,
there remains speechless,
where fear no longer exists,
it lives a life of everyday wanderer,
and we,
who have gathered around umbrella,
have forgotten the chaotic sound of,
how drops of evil rumble,
to the thin layer of canvas,
known as peace

A martyr, dead by his flesh,
with pink-red jawline,
and rotten lips,
has peculiar pull for me tonight,
so I make my way closer,
as he sizzles that snake like tongue,
and with my soft mouth, I make love to his,
bite away part to reveal few teeth,
just enough to pull them out,
underneath, I find the letter long searched,
but oh,
disappointed at reveal, as letter states:
what you search cannot be found, my friend

A small rumor that whispers a promise,
delivered by summer wind,
of womans touch seen,
in a glimpse of a dream,
can make a poor mans soul,
keep going for months

Isn't it ironic,
I, try to size up shoe,
when we knew,
our love, never felt true,
lost at the sea of ours,
I look at sirens,
wishing, I was wise too,
seeing now, why is you

It starts with C,
we all know the abc,
then comes delta,
we forget all,
spike me, **** me, penetrate me,
and now nobody knows abc,
it's new letters, new syllables,
and I thought I go mad,
on poetry, philosophy, but no,
world has lost it's mind,
now,
we all go down together,
battling, mostly each other,
what has happened to the world,
to you, to me?
we used to know ourselves,
our sensibility, on shelves
will you be my friend?

would world tear apart,
if lonely got their part,
of love,
would it be a sin,
if shy found their kin,
for once