little boy, little boy dont cry
everything is going to be alright
one day i'll say goodbye,
don't ask me how don't ask me why.


little boy, little boy dont cry
always think that life is fair,
when it isn't,  it doesn't mean that we are not
going to get there.


little boy, little boy dont weep
when your heart breaks, just go to sleep
dream the dreams that makes your heart leap,
leap the cliffs that your heart speaks.

little boy, little boy goodnight . . .
maybe tomorrow we will glide,
the islands of clouds and the waves of sunshine,
keep asking him how. . . keep asking him why. . .

There is a place in my body where you lie,
A place where fold of muscles and skin,
pillars and bridges and jails of
bones are intact. . .
Where you swim in blood,
dancing in an endless rhythm of beats.
There is a place in me that can be measured,
but whats inside is immeasurable. . .

There is an Idea of you in me.

I am a dark fluid prancing around your buds,
of roses and daffodils, tulips and babies breath,

Loving  you is like being in a sugar coma,
oh what a lovely death!

I am the Dirt under your fingernails,
Killing you slowly like a venom flowing in your veins,
My tongue will be as sharp as blade,
I will stab you in the neck and cut your tubes,
Pound your head into the ground and just spit at your corpse.
I'll drink the liquid as fluid as my knife slicing you.
and hear how to scream like a tortured Jew.

I may not be your closest friend,
I'm not your stalker nor your fiend.
I maybe strange to know some of your deepest secrets.
But I am glad that you always feel my presence.

There is a  line drawn from you to me,
in a world where numbers are god,
where ones and zeros dance to a tune of complete silence.
and we are, but a mere thread in the web.

Strange it may seem,
but how golden the feeling is,
when you tell a secret to a person who see you the least,
but feels your worth.

ask me any questions,
I'll give you my opinions and my convictions,
ask me about numbers,
and get ready for a slumber.

that is me,
an eye in a distance,
not a good but watching you from afar,
like seeing the big picture,
but in details, that is where my focus is at.

My coin operated love gave me a change,
a token of rage tossed in the air to deliver it's message.
heads or tails is both a losing choice,
and in this voice I'll say to you how  we are played like plastic toys.

I was once a pure one,
no sins has ever penetrated my conscience,
no dirt has ever lingered in my presence.
and in time I have become restless.

My libido is in rage,
at a tender age I became a slave,
My views distorted and out of place.
my horned silhouette shows me a grimace.

here I am driving faster than my thoughts,
living in the lap of luxury,
but inside I am lost.

The things I consume to satisfy my hunger,
Is the very same thing that swallows me and rots me in slumber.

I am a fetus swimming into this sac of delusion,
and in the belly of this beast I am painting my retribution.

It's a habit forming activity of the new age,
Science can't even explain the ideas floating  in teenage brain.
Like a super nova blasting in the sky,
a mind so random each and every time.

Thin slicing this warped mind,
A figure  drinking wine in a lime light,
never ever ask a question from your past,
never ever create a formula that won't last.

I am a practitioner of an art you'll never see in a museum,
you'll never see with your eyes.

I am a deaf musician using deception and rhymes,

Even I.  .  .

Even I. . .

can dream if I go blind.

Ye lives are on the line,
our lives are now online.

The old LSD,
Spelled backwards as DSL,
Can  now be seen in an LCD,
we are now pluged in a flat screen T.V.

Oh life!
****** and on the level,
and now we must rebel.

A Flash. . .

And you were there,
An Omnipresence anytime,
Anywhere.

Even when I blink my eyes,
for the Nth time,
Even when I rub them,
you won't leave em'

If I could put a face on you,
I'd like it to be my lover,
If I could recolor you,
I'd throw a green paint,
and if I could draw you,
I'd paint a Sunset or a
calm blue sky.

Yet you remain purple,
and for some reason
you slowly fade.
nostalgic feeling sinks in.

And you go back to black,
I'd always want to have a flashback.

There is a thin line between love and hate,
and in that line, in blood I bathe.
The ****** of logic is rampant in that place.

I am a wire walker crossing that line,
of manipulation and surrender.
of spontaneous combustion and self destruction.

I am unstable, yet in the process I am able.
To control your feelings is a skill,
to give up what you are is a drill.
and that is how you make me feel. . .

This life is a balancing act,
a circus of colors and shades,
applauded by a recorded audience of
a sitcom that we all hate.

Enact, React, and become passive.
Look back, reconstruct and become naive.

On the wire,
A message lost.
A voice forgotten,
A desire caught on fire.  .  .

This is where the good things end,
this is where happiness is bent.
where apathy creates a strong vortex,
that we are ****** in this whirpool
of hate and alibis.

maybe 'tis the right time to realize,
it's not really a surprise,
when lust and love decelerates,
and when pain and apathy accelerates.

Our minds are wrapped,
in a totally invisible box.
Some minds are warped,
potentials untapped.

while some hides it in boxes,
some made out of wood,
some made out of glasses,
while some floats on clouds. . .

our thoughts; surrounded by land-mines.
we are taking one step at a time,
one wrong turn,
and it will blow humanity sky high.

Look at me,
I'm twenty two,
Im still scared of the many things I do.

ranting is foolish now,
aging transforms you somehow.

The old pacifier is replaced with stacks of cigarettes.
the old milk bottle turned into towers of coffee cups.

The bruises in my knee are countless,
from childhood clumsiness,
to mature foolishness.
if my scars would tell you stories,
it would be endless.

here I am,
turning twenty three.
I am way past adolescence,
and walking in the thin line of maturity.

if only a man could see,
what lies ahead in that smoky path.
what a power to have,
what a power to grasp. . .

Life without you will not be as white as you.
but more of the color blue,
not just any blue. . .
but the palest hue of it;
That my skin is starting to turn into.
When you uttered the words,
"I can't remember the feeling anymore,
how about you?"

I see visions,
Whirl and twirl,
even a faint sound of a broken glass,
will make the memories resurface,
the bitter sweet nightmares of a helpless girl.

the potency of trauma is so intoxicating,
even to the purest of the pure,
it's mind boggling.

I was there when I was not,
I went there, but then I forgot.
Who is this woman behind the glass,
wearing a beautiful dress staring straight at me.

I am a person of endless diversity,
placed in a world where I am defined as insanity.

To learn from my mishaps,
made me realize what am I for the better half,
I am amidst the day I lived and die,
we are meeting halfway across this winding path.

I may not be the most pure of souls,
I may be flawed, I may end up a fool.
You may hate me for what I am,
But remember I am just a man.

Let me finish my lecture,
And hear the lessons of my life.
I know we lack in paternal love.
I know the feeling of being succumb.

Temptation. . .

We are just too weak to fall for it,
It's the realization that we have to learn from it.
and that we have to admit.
The Guilt is there to brand our memories.
Let this not end in an inevitable tragedies.

Green grasses versus sky scrapers,
and in the end the one whose more grounded survives.

and when it's time to say goodbye,
it's time to say goodnight.

Hello neon lights!
Hello moonless nights.

wish me the sweetest dreams, of cotton and candy swirls. . .
close your eyes, and feel your world twirl.

And when I get the chance to look you in the eye again,
And when will I get that same chill when our lips collided.
When will I get trough that narrow door again?
And when I get to grasp those  little hands.

Oh how I'd lock myself with you!
I'd throw the keys into the galaxy.
and pray to the gods that it'd be lost for eternity.
****** in a vortex of deluded ecstasy.

Time is a looping straight line.
But if I could cut it in one end and end up with you.
I'll cut time into countless pieces.
and I'd be falling again and again in a well so Endless.

declare yourself immaculate.
the things we love,
are the things we wish we ultimately hate.

You

Are never too old,
to try things that makes you young.
dare to try the things that you have in mind,
don't even hesitate to do something for mankind.

You

never too blue to change your hue,
remember; you are a part of the spectrum too.
a wise man once said that
'every color, every hue is represented by me and you.'

You

Are the possibility, don't believe impossibility.
appreciate every sunrise, don't count your breath.
capture the moments in your mind.
Oh just Lie! once in a while.

She was just a walk away,
She is just a talk away,
should I start with "hello?"
Or may be just a simple smile?
but then she walked away. . .

Come rain,
Come shine,

You are just a little too late,
don't dive into an unknown river,
you'll have another time.
and for a meanwhile just say.

Come rain,
Come shine,

Be friends with your tequila,
throw away that useless margarita,
liquors can't buy you a señorita.
and for goodness sake let's take our time.

Come rain,
Come shine,

Black

That is what you are,
warm, and slippery,
you were worthless then,
A viscous liquid,
floating and loathing mens Ignorance.

Gold

You transformed yourself into one,
with many faucets hidden under the sun.
you built yourself with flaming castle towers,
Soldiers ready to **** for you,
and Conquerors ready to die for you.

Our ethics walks in a wire  of fiasco.
You have proven yourself for more than a century,
filling our cups with hatred, conflict and adversity.
you even turned a dove into a crow.

You are truly the missing link of alchemy,
you transform yourself metaphorically.
a useless waste,
to a liquid gold.
and now look at the world. . .

Darkness is nothing,
yet defined as something,
The absence of me gave meaning to him.
and now he is the Ancient Behemoth that fights me within.
and gives life to me without. . .

Where I am there He is,
Where I am not He is God.

I cannot match him,
His speed is yet to be known,
A force to be reckoned,
yet an energy that is Obviously Unknown.

I Envy his powers,
His might and his Will,

I can stare you but you'll be blinded,
He can consume you without even knowing it.

What am I?
What is He?

Who came first?

Darkness or Me?

"far  moments ? let's  get away!"

that is what I just have heard  today,

I really  just  don't  know when to stay,

in my head  I try  to let it all happen ,

and in a mean  chair  of innocents  
it's heading inside my  mind blowing .

care?

how important  is the bombing ?

maybe we should all believe  what the rest of the world  didn't  dare.

Do you how much I hate you?


go out in a clear blue summer sky. . .

Count the stars if you ever see one;

Oh please! Just please! don't include the sun,

That is how much you mean to me. . .

I wont ever hurt you, my ebony.

And at night,

If you ever wonder how much i love thee,

Lay your bones in the moonlit grass,

And if you ever feel alone, this too shall pass.

I am your lunar crescent,

Hear my howl. . .

Cradle in my dark side. . .

Hush my darling,

and sleep with me tonight.

What am i?

But a putrid droplet from a rotten sac,
dripping slowly neath' the earthly tomb,
amidst the vast ocean of this swamp,
my purity and my flaws remains intact.

I am clean?

I believe. But yet to be cleansed . . .

am I forsaken?

What is see, is what I am becoming. . .

Believe!

You are pure!
You are water!
You are free!

run towards the sea of truth!
flow! meander! transform! reborn!
for you are just a sinner!
sinners are meant to be forgiven!

Bathe yourself with a million other of you,
and realize. . . this is your. . .

How does It feel,

To be there and not found?

To find me,

and never find out?

You Bring me in

and Brought me out.

To not see and hear your little one shout?

To fly and to stay,

To the dessert, and live there to decay?

will you be a man of your words?

Will you mean what you meant?

Hear me father for I can now speak...

With this small voice,

let your stone cold heart hear me weep. . .

SO RENDERED
Adjust the brightness and contrast of the light,
with a magic wand you can select whatever you like,
crop the pieces and merge it together,
change the hue and remember the feather. . .

blur the mistakes and sharpen the lines,
burn the the corners and dodge the shadows,
the things we do to minimize the imperfection,
is a great reflection of what we see behind every mirror. . .

To Grasp something that is invisible to the eye,

to caress what is intangible and naked to the touch,

to grip the air with all your might,

and find nothing there,

to step upon a shadow and hold it captive,

to whisper a secret in a bottle so no one else would know it,

to love the unknown,

to show what you can't show,

to create your own world. . .blindfolded,

to be left handed in a world of the right-handed,

to be what they limit you to be. . .

to be reborn every now and then.

must be. . .

The black is turning silver,
your flesh is getting paler,
the joy is now minimized
this is the day we realize. . .

don't let that happen,
and from this moment on,
lets try to keep that day, far far away. . .

the dawn is half past dead,
and now we don't have anything to unload in our head,
maybe our time is nearly over,
or we just begun to turn our ends motor.

we wont let that happen,
and from this moment on,
lets try to keep that day, far far away. . .

lets play our old toys,
and swing our swings,
'till we see what we already saw,
lets make it all clear just before we go. . .

we will never let that happen,
and from this moment on,
lets try to keep that day, far far away. . .

There In the middle of nowhere
We find ourselves side by side in a comfy sofa chair,
We didn't know how we got there,
but we don't really care.

Looking forward but not looking back,
what does this mean?
are we on the right track?

There In the middle of nowhere
We find ourselves side by side in a comfy sofa chair,
We didn't know how we got there,
but we don't really care.

Sunday morning. . .


You'll hear oldies on the radio,
while your woman cooks your microphone.
The siren screaming "get away from here!"
the Aud lang syne is in your ears,
It changes overtime, and this is not a drill.


The moment of silence is more important,
than a series of bombing for the innocent. . .
The running chariot of insolence,
heading it's way inside my head and blowing it!


Saturday have just arrived,
The nightly calm and lullabies.
Yesterdays home is now long gone. . .
my father shot himself with a two barrel shotgun. . .


The moment of silence is more important,
than a series of bombing for the innocent. . .
The running chariot of insolence,
heading it's way inside my head and blowing it!