Weakness if grinding me, further from my goal.
Summers aren’t melting the snow in my soul.
With my fists of gentle care unable to breach the wall.
I want to take a black paint shower under a burning waterfall.
My coat of red and black, like the predator’s skin.
Nobody to trust, nothing to be seen.
What am I chasing with my feeling so pure?
What am I trying to cure?
My garden of dreams hanging down from branches.
Blade in my pocket as my only friend.
A raven sits in my garden, a bad omen, mocks me as
I am chasing a dove in a field with no end.
I become a bird to reach my dove.
But I like the flight itself more than what I am to catch.
I’m told that now I have a choice to make.
One that I cannot fake, a choice that must match
What sits inside.
Fly with extra weight or drown in love.
Every next one I meet, I feel like I know her.
With every mile going by, I fly lower and lower.
Growing tired with time, I count doors slamming shut,
Another out of my life, another to call a slut.
But the lower I fall, I flap my wings harder.
My desire to fly and feel the flight grows stronger,
The faster I fail, the more I want to go on,
And not give up.
It’s like that rope you hold on to,
Feeling how weak your fingers become,
And the more obvious becomes the fact you cannot keep holding,
The more you grow bitter of knowing you will now fail.
It is the time when you start using your teeth,
It’s when feathers come out, so hard you start to flap
And only bloody bones are left of your wings.
When the fox bites its tail to free from a trap,
This is the way of the dead, and the way of the kings.
This is the way of all things
That are strong enough not to cease to exist.
Keeping my freedom, while finding home.
I know my problem. It’s the eternal dilemma.
From the list of things that make me unhappy,
Which I eliminated one by one, all alone,
I myself am the last remnant.
A baby’s sleep, my steps are silent.
Two eyes in the dark, that’s me walking the roof
The beast within is not asleep.
Rain on the roadway will wash away all proof.
New victim, lonely and sad.
I will not let my gaze off her precious figure.
I need nothing else today.
I need nothing. I am ready to jump.
Running. Leaping. I am home.
The thinnest of the needles, directly to the brain.
I should get out of my coma more often.
But I am troubled with the same question all over again.
A question “why?”
Why like this? Why restless?
In my heart, cruel nature planted a deep cut.
Do not worry yourself, my love.
No more loneliness, you will not be alone.
Life will slide down tiredly,
Along my knees. This is the same old play,
It only has different actors.
Bullets in the clip, only two of you left.
Soon, my loves, I will set you free.
Sing me a song, a sex of wind and lead.
Flying several meters, a passerby falls dead.
My head is blown off, I did not fasten my seat belt.
From a cloud a bit above me, a skull is smiling wide.
I will file all my forks till they’re dull.
Then I will drink some ammonium.
This is a cry for help from the bottom of a bottle.
A maniac’s monologue.
I will open a can of dead worms,
And put us all in it for better taste.
I will unbutton my collar, and step out to the train tracks.
The wind will carry miles of suicide away.
