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autor:: Elendurwen

rubrika:: poezia

There is nothing in the end
Only shapeless death
No matter how the wind blows
Or how the stars are spread

And there is no return
So keep me breathing still
We are all just waiting
Like toys on a wooden till

To be picked up and die
All alone in our brains
And maybe there is someone
To bury the dull remains

Of what we call ourselves
Now can you see the real?
We don't really exist
And all the things you feel

Are only thoughts of
The neverending existence
We have no bodies and
No power of resistance

And anything that we do
Just doesn't make sense
We try to survive
We build house and a fence

But Death keeps blowing
Time into our opened eyes
Just forget yourself
And ride up with the flies

napísanísané:: 31.3.2008

prečítalo:: 1350 ludí