sâmbătă, 10 septembrie 2011

Through it all

the heart I borrowed from the ground
has eyes and ears and boiling blood
that twitch and clench and gasp
at each utopian word
released by dark angels
into the air.

my hands become useless-
wooden claws of angered faith;
my lips turn out to be mere
on the string of a retarded

social sedatives only put a
serene mask on your horizon,
but when silence reconquers
the scene,all one can wish for
is just another chance to spin
that dreadful wheel
of time
and luck
and fear!

Niciun comentariu: