Exaggeration is a writer’s best friend,
aside from a paper and pen.

If it’s a only a small river,
we see a massive sea
and when they turn around,
we watch them leave.
There is one cloud
but we see the whole sky,
they say hellos and
we only hear that one goodbye.

Exaggeration is a writer’s best friend,
we don't notice beginnings, we write of the end.

The Moiren wove your live
from womg to grave
knew that you would dive
led you with their Irricht through winter cave

You ran behind their thread
your youth exhaled in spring air
given to the Naiad your wonder was dead
the Moiren now find a new adventure

You found yourself floating in a river
till you were called by her hymn
when the moon went high it made you shiver
and the summer lights went dim

In fall you fell
the Banshees mourned your death
but you´ll rise the Moiren could tell
so waiting you sat on the reef

You´re looking for the Irrlicht
guiding you
                     The Naiads
                          celebrating you
                                                      Got lured by Lorellei
So the Banshees sang

The thing that scares me the most is to forget

This fortnight hunts me
Every moment does
Two weeks so easy to waste
Things so easy to forget
Lists stacked on me
Words I musn´t forget
Even though so easy
A fortnight for the best time of my life

then again I´ll put on my suit
once again mute
like all the screaming men

there´s so many words lost in businessjackets
stars trapped in computers
of men who forgot
from time to time you´ll see a crystal in their eyes
and when it melts (if their heart is warm enough still)
they cry it onto their computer
once I stared at a screen so long
I only saw snow shimmering
flying crystals from the sky
fade and wash everything away

I couldn´t bare to be one of them
(for you see)
It´s not only my independent doom

All my thoughts turned into poems
and im so scared
to watch them fade
I am their creator
I give them soul

undone they         float

like ghosts in the limbo
forgotten and never birthed
those pale crystal constructions
like chromosomes & cells built me

4 dimensional spirits
2 dimensional bodies
through 3 dimensional hands

I cut out pieces of my soul
to give them souls of their own

if I don´t    trap     them
in icy white plane
with the                 I gave them
                  wings

they´ll end like Icarus

taking my soul with them
into the deep puddle

if their forgotten

so am





I

The pain you gave me made me heal
Made me feel real
When my thoughts turned into a spiral
And i found myself in a trial
I ended up at my existence
No big resistance
For days flow of feelings
Staring at different ceilings
But it all happened so real
And for a moment a glance i steal
On myself
Which i stored on a shelf
Locked in a room
Called doom
Ivy over the facade
In which I laid
Curtains over my eyes
To fall in a sleep of rolling dice

Seeing you through the curtain
Made me think for certain
Lifted one arm out the ivy
Which held me so tightly
Might i fall
And then crawl
To the door of doom
My vision sore of gloom
A glance inside
Makes me want to hide
The ivy i felt
Of which i was held
May my heart´s weight
Make me fall down straight
May the facade i had chosen fall
The ivy loosen even if it grew tall
Ivy as tight as a hug
Made me be stuck
It had cut through my skin
But it held me thin
To an ornate **** im *******
I would never be crude
Now i hang in it
And sang of lilit