Motto: Then they fell from thy eyes.
With the old shadows, desolation is my only mask;
I keep my fears off whenever I preach- the way
the mighty sword caresses the unrolling dice,
the ultimate void laughing in my face.
Tranquility - just a nocturnal remedy in all kinds of weather
I’m the fallen whisperer; my injured attempts are
Up to fate, my defiant whereabouts out-of-reach;
Anywhere under the sun is my home,
Anywhere under the moon I will hide-and-seek.
We still have our words, don’t we?
Our pride to share- are the skies the limit no more?
My prayers are voiceless, my paths have been crossed,
My tables turned down so often. One
can either move on or stare
for a sensory fairy-tale to decompose.
I envy the wild horses' graves
They never have to cry. There is no imperfection.
No make-believe. Whatever the records, the odds,
We have been cursed for too long.