2.6.

Dead is
The Silver Century

So continue
the fight
The endless
wars
Rack up
Stack up
Under the
influence
of invisible
social scores

Into the
depths of
debt
I went

Tried to
buy back
my soul

Forsaken
It had been
taken
from me
By the hand
that
feeds me
The hand
that
diseased me
The hand
that
materialized
It forced
greed
onto me

In Grey
backgrounds
Lay bone white
symbols
What’s left of
the sacred
words will tell
the visions of
the dead

Living miracle
to miracle
I’m praying
for a miracle
The days
are getting
nearer
And
I can’t help
but wish that
the apocalypse
would hit

There have
been 27 times
I forgot
my name
So I take you
to my bed
so I can hear
it again

As the Babylonian
rivers
run into the
red
Translations
of sins
I need
to forget

So be careful
now
I have been
permitted  
to say what
needs
to be said

Tell me

What is the taste
between
Heaven and Hell?

Is there a better
flavour?

Take my hand
let me guide
you
Feel the silence on my lips
Savour beauty on my hips
The architecture
of my back
My eyes have become
a fatal trap
My body is your
poetic map