Κυριακή, 25 Οκτωβρίου 2009
Money is unkind and cold...they have been for a while
My bees died a long ago, and draught draws me back.
The heat seems like a dazzling dream now.
Suppression offers me its sweet caress.
What is a youth? How should I be bold for them?
I was never a hero, nor ever will be.
All my medallions have turned to little ashes.
My bloody eyes have so much hate, anger...pain.
All friends vanish when possession takes over.
All friends yearn for freedom.
Friends with no strings attached.
Small mistakes that end in entrapment of heart.
Life leads in the reality of imprisonment...
Freedom is a state of mind...like peace.
Love is un-existable.
Passion can rule two bodies.
Tenderness can rule a mother and a babe.
Fathers neglect the happiness of the small fetus...
Mothers feel the bond to their eternal grave.
And I still stand alone.
On that mountain...
Gazing on the grey shadows.
Degraded for my forged desires.
Blazing my divine pleas...
St Peter looks at me and answers full of bewilderment:
"As if the welcome would soften your pain,
As if life would exist in your human mind again,
Weep my child, and accept with no words to meddle your heart.
Embrace the human judgment, betray it and win it!
Come in, my lonely child..."
I go in...
With no words,
With no sorrow and with no empathy.
I envy the dary, the tolerant and the obscure.
I pity the lowly, the lewd and the unsure!
Fly me now; fly me on your bicycle...
Steel me up...bury me down.
Freeze my silver stars
Burn this clown!