Tuesday, August 12, 2008

exhaustion of the will to live

silent bodies hit the ground
a dance of humans tricked by time
they’re flowing slow with muted sound
like blown up sand, like waters rime

their deformation of the strike
rumbles through their careless minds
makes them know that they are down
no reason to ever rise again

this is where we all will go
perhaps once were, I do not know
what is life and what is death
this is so far from simple math

they struggle in the buildings, in the streets
they haste for things which matter not
keeping eyes to written sheets
expanding the blind folds they got

seldom one does stop to run
and starts to think what’s on his mind
in search for aims they loose this world
no meaning there which they could grab

how could there ever be a thing
eternal and with fixed meaning
when everything which it presents
was formed by humans thoughts and hands

black wells out of the gone’s bodies
oozing up just like the fell
wishless fading, their memories
can not find a heaven, can not find a hell

their hearts still pumping the blood
driveless humans pass away
as they eat and as they sleep
as there is no shard of luck

when nothing binds you to a deed
how could one breathe, how could one feed
going on just for the cause
but can not smile just for the cause

(you idiots)

Posted by Gedankenanschläge at 03:49 Comments Off on exhaustion of the will to live
Saturday, August 02, 2008

being strange

coated within my tonge
my most evil thoughts run blind

how can you dare to disturb me
I have worked so long on this

I hate you, I hate you
get away from me

how can you dare, you piece of shit
to disturb my lonlyness

I have always been alone
and I really learned to like it
for you can’t listen to the silence
to the peace, when noone’s there

when you don’t bear responsibility
when you live all by yourself
and live for nothing but the
sweet sounds of the day and the night

and the light from the sun
and the wind on your skin
and the smell of the grass
and the touch of the rain

now I must smell you,
touch you, feel you
taste you, and I musten listen, too
and I learned to like it, too

but can you follow me, where I once have been
could you understand?

for if you can not, go!

Posted by Gedankenanschläge at 22:16 Comments Off on being strange