kings

it is so strong to feel it again the same

reverberation you were born from my mother was a bass guitar and i was a little jesus ... as usual.

use me. fill me with your stuff, breathe it into me. and i don't feel anything our ways must part. i can't stand the happiness of being ... so usual.

the kings of time mount their horses to ride its land. past midnight, one of them stops and utters my name. the air is loaded. the king smiles. there is no sense to it and we both know. the horse is restless. the sword has to fall.

::: the pledge that made them fight :::

signatune

i see the stars with my hollow eyes the dogs run violently through the street and the pain suffocating my head releases me from humanity i feel them fangs tearing my meat apart i hear them bark chatter like machine gun from the interceptor overhead no night no day just the light substance leaving the vein this is the way you believe it this is the way your temper becomes the rage of city them dogs they still run them dogs carrying your meat it is so carnal so real you would like to taste your bit but the sun cries fuck you in your face and your middle finger is so limp the dogs run on and on into the great wide open of your hollow eyes

::: vanished :::

last days on earth

i hope i will sleep when the hour comes

that i will dream about being dead at rue archimede

the sky is pleasant like a bullet you cannot dodge ... in the circle of destruction and construction ... forever, the same eternal game

my soul

my happiness

the water silently blooms in the park

...

the way you descend

the way you smoke

the way you drink white wine out of my veins

reminds me that tomorrow is just an

empty word

 

::: soundless :::

the last time i checked

my eyes were red and blue

my hands lied still on the table

shouting, breathing the song of never. waiting

for the knife and fork of the selfist tomorrow.

everything was almost stable ...

now the sky is grey, always, forever and the rain seems

to be the second skin of this unpleasance of a city

the four zeroes on the clock tell me it is time

for ...

for what actually?

my eyes are red caught

in this boredom of eternity and absence of love

the last time i checked my silhouette disappeared

from horizon.

::: swallow :::