HALK METEORS
I'm afraid because I can't trust anyone, and because I'm constantly disappointed - I only exist, even in the face of purulent scars, rocking dust! I try to look inside myself: What else can the secret map of my heart hide and how can it be even more lasting in biological material than ore? The lazy and monotonous minutes of walking through the alley of Life remain mortal until then - the eternal crisis of immortality is given to the happy legacy of star-eyes!
The perforated, leaked days are spinning around, squeezing into a vise, that you can't be with me - at most just in thought - and rushing around me like an overzealous gun, the assured fear is busy! Around me - I was afraid, I had already closed everything, because I was alone in conscious uncertainty: I was a stranger. They are stretched out towards me, even stretched by the cold indifference spikes of the ice stars. The cosmos is gaping in space, the black hole isn't fiddling, because I can be a kid again - if only for fragments - and rock in my mother's safe lap! "I don't know where to go, on designated, well-traveled roads?"
There that I have never been able to walk before, or are there risk-free beasts guided by poaching hunts that alternate war messages, cheap motherhoods? Then, if the protector Someone is next to me, maybe we will start with a definite undeniable pride, and with every perception of the blind we will unravel the secrets of the uncertain unknown Doom!
And perhaps our greatest sin will be that we have not remained convulsively clinging to us even in the decisive, defining moments - and we will forgive in the crater of our hearts that priceless tears will fall from the chasms of our soul-seeing eyes like soft meteors…
