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Tijana Jul 2018
How it all started I cant quite remember
The only thing that's left, a fragment of memory, a piece, an ember.
I pleaded, I begged the God to think of a little child that is being destroyed, I begged him to react before in me the only thing that would be left was a big void.

But God remained cold, there is no way to cure the wounds of old.So I ve rotten for a couple of years, tried to heal my wounds with yeast and tears.

And nothing came abought, only a deep saddened drought. My soul was slowly crushed by a false mission, with a ban to sign my petition.

I've sat on the cold trone to know how it feels, nothing in that imaginary belief is real.
Witches serve the rulers that claim they're bold, pretending to be divine but inside contain only mold.

And this Earth spins, there is no other way, but for us, petty fools to be dismayed. Puppeteers pull their strings, so we can forcefully bow down and kiss their rings.

What kind of idiots do you think we are?,
Do you really think all schemes go that far?
Sad alone, abandoned, without any hope, We go out and accept these monsters only to be hanged by a rope.

Call them Psychopaths, Borderlines, Narcs,
They give a bad name even to sharks.
But every thing that rises needs to fall.
But before they do, they'll try to silence us all.
Quite the start to the weekend
There it goes, watch it ends
These pages are made of dust
What is half read is still unread
Tree of paper leaving glue trail
In search of the perfect bookmark
I found a place for receipts to recuperate

I locked eyes with Jupiter
On a wooden coffee table
The great counterclockwise storm
Ticking away with each drop
Disaster, sky without a star

Heaven receives blessings,
On slow workdays
When martyrs are lucky enough to live
We swore by that which divides day and night,
and fails to conquer either
That Faith must not pass the gate
Until they call for prayer
Until the square of crossroads is clear
Sometimes I feel like a disbeliever in Jerusalem

Prayers manifest duality as one
So shoulders can shrug in unison
Banal attempts to restore faith
Outrage is out of reach
The mind sets red-tape traps,
We call that mindless assertions
In the climate of trumpets and megaphones
Nothing escapes poltics
Vicious cyclones of “Breaking News" cycles
"I see pictures of children in faraway places that wreck me for a day"
If the people have nothing in common. . .
. . .then there can be no common sense.

— The End —