Living is the search
in which we lose everything...
Everything would end
everything my dear, that is why...
Liberty is not a hymn or an anthem,
a slogan...
He serenades still
there under the window of...
it is like it is
rules will be rules...
Just as he screams
“the clouds are here...
It's been a while since I've been here,
The first time I joined has been well over ten...
I want you to get to know me,
to pull me aside, in your chestnut cardigan...
The fake flowers
take gentle peeks...
Words slither from your tongue
and down my throat...
I wish to draw a line,
not one that divides...
Trust in the madness
of which brings all the torments...