Every step we manage
to take       - doomed
Birds chirping at the
daybreak  - doomed
Smile &
      Flame  - doomed

   So,

How can we dance
When the birds are dead?

Bloom the carnivals
when the souls - unfed?


Pure white rabbit
in tar-thick dread
Lost his gold,
                 & bled

Meeting and hanging out with friends
Scenes become cartoon like
Every person becomes cartoon like
Druggish visions, 2000's chavs
Smoking dope and loitering
the tower blocks district

Beware when you think about them
                       when you look at them
For they are 18 years
                                         in the past

A newborn of the internet
MTV ruled the popculture
Silent/waiting adolescent society
of tower blocks districts
West leaked through the
       luminous cracks
                 of TV screen.

Rat Queen in labour
foul and swollen
         driven
            by
     unstoppable
force (remorse! Whitebirds,
Felines of night - mourn.)
            of childbirth

‌  ‌  ‌  ‌  ‌(Lem-ON)

     LEMON
               Juice.

(lemon(fresh) cut in half
knife metal - zesty peel
bitter citrus nebulize smell,
                                       juice)

Childhood            Ground Coffee
     smell          ≈           smell

Brown substance
Mysterious
Drank by adults

                               
      dark brown - vivid yellow
                  calm - verve
            oily, dry - fresh, watery
                 stable - quick, ephemeral
         (in a shelf)

Sitting beside methane sea
Gazing at the Saturn
I wonder why Beethoven
  Sounds so good in space,
     In a place so far away from home,
        full of cold and loneliness?
         Yes, sounds of piano definetly
          fit the silence and beauty of the Cosmos.

So, so far away from home,
in cold and quiet
beside the methane seas
On my own - I find my peace.

How can we dance
when the birds
are dead?
Cut the tumor
out of my mind
(not my soul
-it is pure,
            beautiful.)

I woke up too late,
my train has left.
         That's how
             I feel.
2000 years old train
Destination: City of the Sane.
I will catch it,
however, I'll leave
before the final station
Is reached.

I don't mind
roaming the woods for ever,
walking the meadows
and climbing the hills.

     I refuse.