I wanted to lie on your lap, lowering my orphaned little boy's head. This is how I dreamed of heaven, a possible fulfillment! Between the glories of the harmony found, it is a barrier and a rope to immerse yourself in the darkness of your beetle-eyes at night, and to feel: it is not my life that I need you! The delicate thread of your beautifully curved veined hair would encircle you, not suffocatingly, but all over gently, even with rampant amber, and from this World you would be taught a lesson of courageous uplifting and holding, if everything seems to collapse!


The dreamy imagination was now deceived, lying and annulled at the same time - I wanted to face the Kharübdisz throat of wave depths; wolf-eyed with passing, but only if you squeeze my hand out of full strength. It would have promised us twilight by blowing rainbows, and while celestial volcanic eruptions

we looked, the earthly miracle, the infinite in each other then we found forever! I would have kept silent with my stethoscope elephant ears, your tiny bell-heart, what unknown messages it sings to me. I would have greeted you who thought you were merrily and merrily lost when your heart was broken again, a tragic loss!

That's how I would have stayed with you, a humble guest, a shipwrecked pathetic of worn-out moral values, - now resting in your non-redeeming Madonna lap. My orphaned, shaky soul cannot be relieved by the peaceful captivity of my pillows. I peek around the corner of my room, and if they ask: Why haven't I married and committed myself? I reply, “My deer-eyed gaze holds me in immortal abundance, in handcuffed captivity, among the pathetic shackles of eternal exile, that I have let go of the Happiness Found lightly, I have let it go!

In the unspeakable minute in which the true pearl shattered in your dark eyes: I saw shooting stars glow in a garland of halo. And at the same time we did not even notice ourselves, but our hearts became the caring, caring guard of each other! In the lake of my soul, I let your unforgettable face continue to bathe, and we could have been the only sentient, human bond: You and I - it was good to forget the prey of worries and sorrows and leave it behind!

"And now that the delicate veins of your nerve strings don't tingle at your already raging blood, where should I go now instead of your roaring winter-greeted sun-smile." my heart was shattered in a changeable shape for you to reassemble, and now why did I have to, did it be necessary to shatter my wounded self again, to know: I could only have been your toy in your junk, flirting campaign?

Oh tell me! If you can say and confess who, giving up his existence, confessed bouquets of love, happiness, and joy, and what will happen with that novel, what else can you expect? "He was frightened, afraid of my perforated heart, that the only Phoenix bird of immortal flame would never rise again," he said, almost afraid,

his rooted legs tremble when he begins a renewed relationship: The wounded spikes of the former immortal sweetheart still hurt his heart, trembling on porcelain-fragile dreams, one dances with ease! - I can't forget your star crossfire, you can get closer and closer if you move away from me: And even now

you chase my dreams, my resignation, bitter consciousness, self-pity stuck in my throat: Can I go on with Life now without you? I can't listen to the suicidal ease of suicides either.

Requiem for immortality
  
    
  
He could no longer know anything that he would fall into Nothing with a kiss-praise, as the last confession in which cramps trickle into the impossible - unbearable volcanic eruption, cosmic collision of spheres, whirlwind of eye wars

Your Archangel has not faithfully torn your blood-twilight lips to the tune of balmy romances - And he couldn't know anything from you that his kiss would comfort him! But there was a short circuit, the connection that thought immortal connected two wandering shipwrecks, maybe it was finally broken!

- The wild and silky-green torn hills of the ancient Celtic ridges could not bring you peace either, because you could not know the answers, in the darkening pond of your eyes, cynical sparks had not bounced for a long time, you yourself are a childish dream image, you are a junk prisoner of our toy!

In the corridor of my soul, you can no longer greet with a grin, you are determined that the germ of your existence could not be adopted fertilized by the earth! - You just wouldn't have left me forever! How I could have felt beneath your throbbing body landscapes bubbling, bubbling, and feathering flirtatious bubbles in your oxygen carrying molecules!

Now done: The siege ring, which has besieged a knocking heart so far and is now tightening its throat, stretches it out: It is forced to swallow a deadly dumpling curse while the dehumanization gorillas are trampled on!

Deep in the placenta, the tummy-dweller snoozes quietly, sending messages. The Madonna-faced fairy is still patient and kindly examining her belly, watching! Oh, the first, tiny chubby-angel germination of new existence, now unfolding its wings! In the happiness of the heart, it now begins in a thick stream of rays and sends more and more, pounding its berries of true pearls richly.

Oh, little, blessed unknown guest, strange planets **** the Netherlands to this big world! - While in the cellular caves of the abdominal cavity like a glorious candlelight you are searching for a possible way out and looking for your future mother's swan hands diligently and gently: Now the celebrating soul begins a quiet lullaby, giving prayers to the gracious God of Nature!

Joconda-eyed, blessed love-chalice that has elevated Existence to the altar, you have received the Hearts that love you with a humble bow with a flood of kisses! The common fate of Damocles swings over us that we could have been born into existence from the killer home of fertile mothers - your angelic baby is now

he keeps crying, squinting. He roars proudly as he perceives the warmth of his harmonies, his love, curious about everything. His love and hunger are now growing, as in the instinctive food chain of the deserved hierarchy, and he greedily squeezes, cumizza the life-giving elixir of life, which rises as a source of existence: even open, gaping wounds, from the self-craters of the ******* of the *******: comforts, babusgat and nourishes

so one-eyed child, and perhaps the unspeakable, magical moment of revolving existence! Gordian knots also seem simpler, everything is tactilely homely, realistic!

To hide, to escape. Cheap and not-ripe with the weights of Tomorrow on my limbs, painted green and blue by the squeaky revenge! You should hide — yes, sneak into the deep secrets of blessed-hearted mother-in-law. Stretch out as long as you can the unknown safety net to protect and protect you! - Or in diligent mole mode, digging denser caves of tunnels underground: Field worms,

perilous beetles may be accepted as unknown guests, my real lack cannot be complete, it cannot be Whole: My voicing conscience plays with me questions and answers every day and recognizes my lack. - The weight of the task is what pulled back: The responsibility of pen and paper recalls more and more, pulled back into the sobering consciousness; I can't leave yet, and I can't be part of the Nothing I am considering yet,

in whose country I would be transformed into a degraded ****, under persistent, non-sluggish patience! The law of hiding binds me, forces me to forget my retaining human reality, and in the abyss of my selfishness I can find my own way out! The wounded, battered coder of the days is just lurking,

in your persecution mania, whoever is behind you in the invisible is still obsessively, drug-killer? I deliberately hid myself in my heart with my treasures of compliments - if possible and always remember me - I could not even count and face my soul,

budge! The momentary self-esteem and self-confidence are bold in me, and now I know for sure - I would jump in vain:

I can never enjoy your unfulfilled, blissful love with you again!

A stream of melted chocolate pours richly on your forehead, - brown straw flames encircle your deer gaze. Your gaze is scanning, like paying attention to detail - now you’re searching with killer thoroughness and paying attention. Towards sunlight, you reveal the sincere, courageous radiance of your earthly face: The thorny thistles of rays, the proud sheaves, wrestle with your curls while the melody of your rest trembles in peace on the island of my shoulders,

feed! The dazed afternoon stretches lazily around us, and the unearthly wail-cry of your prayer reaches my mouth, its peaceful supplication, That it may never end - in vain I look, I pay attention, I search the tender, tender vaults of your face, I cannot find the sincere, pure light, the ancient which surrounded

s defined You! He became more suspicious of almost every lover. Hotter than love: Soul-shackling Faithfulness that has bound me to you, and now I am merely blessed with self-mourning in the Universe! "It would have been nice to fall into the intoxication of kisses together: The Universe would have surprised us with the need for completeness - as an inheritance I gave you my mood to protect it with your proud affection," I should have seen it; I was the perfect, foolish - that Heureka's spark didn't flash for me: And anyway

I wanted to hold it in your arms as the last romantic breath of your arms, as it became a hole, you have fallen into the priceless Pearl of Truth, and you have forgotten all too soon! As a Prometheus, my wound ruptures daily because of you: Do not accuse, do not grieve yourself! - Our destiny as a wise judge smooths the crosses of our existence

Renewable mornings are like ***** killer, leaking through the soles of my soaked shoes, - in front of me I have to pay attention to split and split into two amoebaes the winter snow-covered, spruce-island: And yet I fell through a wide-eyed human sieve. In the mouths of many tiny crickets, sisere-arm, as the only outsider outside the camp, groping only the familiar unknown, I stop: Either I will be quite persecuted, or I will live to be reduced to a hunter myself! - This Century puts on those who daily produce with sweat beads the still existing Reality and the pleasure that has never been before

they knew - they leave it to those who get up at ten in the morning! People’s wallets are punctured and wounded by unfaithful self-abandonment: You can’t stay on the ground for some cheap garas after the possible tomorrow. Even with a terrible burden of responsibility, I am constantly grinding myself and dissecting the brainstorming of my brain: How to be captive to Tomorrow

earning bread if you have already shattered Hope got there? The only permanence against the tolerated World: Constant, self-marching, vibrating malaise! - Now a work that produces diligence and perseverance and a brain presence fills the mornings, and if the bed is rather a relaxing captivity short-circuited,

rather than constraint. Now you are still a biological cell, who would need a camp of life-giving molecules as soon as possible, but there may come an era in the found, dismembered Time, when Someone in loyalty clutches will look at you, and with your conscience - in the tunnel of secret telepathies

you become one with him! - Only the Thought can be honest and clear, because the mouth is already stuttering