Everyday, it is there
Next to him, in him,
A presence he does not dare
To look straight in the eyes.
From early in the morning
Till late in the evening,
It gives him no chance,
To escape anywhere.
Sometimes it is stronger,
In his head it sounds like
The waves on the Basque coast,
Going backwards,
Coming back
Stronger than
he can sometimes bear.
His vision it sometimes alters,
Shaping black clouds around.
The lady in white
Told him not to worry
So he obeys.
But the lady in black
With the long scythe,
Standing behind,
Invisible in the dark,
Silently giggles,
Patiently waiting
for this new client,
To enlarge her circles.
Sep 21, 2014
Sep 21, 2014 at 4:25 PM UTC
Everyday, it is there
Next to him, in him,
A presence he does not dare
To look straight in the eyes.
From early in the morning
Till late in the evening,
It gives him no chance,
To escape anywhere.
Sometimes it is stronger,
In his head it sounds like
The waves on the Basque coast,
Going backwards,
Coming back
Stronger than
he can sometimes bear.
His vision it sometimes alters,
Shaping black clouds around.
The lady in white
Told him not to worry
So he obeys.
But the lady in black
With the long scythe,
Standing behind,
Invisible in the dark,
Silently giggles,
Patiently waiting
for this new client,
To enlarge her circles.
About headache
