I trace wild horses with my fingers;
Running,
Running in the dead of night.
Running from sunlight.
We were cursed to think up freedom
And not understand what it means.
The message is too many things.
Running-
From what?
Wonderful is the midnight dark
There is life,
There is the spark.
The perfect man is up
Looking in trashcans for food
To survive.
We live all this time
Just to die
One day.
So many years dedicated to
One day.
I'll find it out
Some day-
The way
Is too high
My thoughts, base.
Listen to the drums
Feel the bass in your bones.
Life is reflections and vibrations
A mind trying to make sense
Of imaginary stimuli
That's why I stare
At the stars in your eyes
Wondering
What the horses
Are running from