I hold at bay
a crippling loneliness
By dawn, rest assured, a resurrection
My resolutions are all but dissolved.

In need for an introduction
paved down a track of empty expressions
drown, grey faces, lost cases of ill times and lost hope
"You don't look yourself today"
As if it were not impossible to change overnight
Pontificate the miracle of followed advises and power of will.

My conscription by birth shall only lead to my death
I am ever so so cold and in agony
Furthermore my pillow remains mad at me

I am grown a terrifying condition of late
the symptom's dire, the body rests weak
a counter-reaction, an overdose of hypocrisy

I for one embrace this new turn of events
no longer afraid of the dark for I long the ticks
the scratches and the hallowing noises that fill the silence
what hasn't killed me since then burrows me deeper
Mentally exhausted I salute thy and lay dormant for now

Mother Tongue

A vibration, hearts beating

Birth by sleep, laughter bound to convert

Embracing the very air you reject

As we speak

Millions breath, overthinking

Peasants facing a steep cliff

Mutual understanding is but a dry lake

An oasis in this fading mirage and I blame the heat

An understatement, a blur mixed with blushing cheeks

Guilty consciences trigger false alarms and edgy goose bumps

C'mon I honestly do not mind the rain

Why the fuck must I object or waste my time

Complaining if I rather dance tonight?

Natural speaker, an echo really

We are all the same

Under one piece of fabric

We unite

So comprehensive I cry at night

In fear my Ism is ever lacking

I dream in pixels not tunes mate

I was born to procreate

Not entertain

And I do not find appropriate of late

How every sneeze is a death sentence

My ears itch and my hands are shaky 

I cut my wings

Awaiting anew, branding

#Steaming hot

Have it all, my heart and food for thoughts

My soul

Complain about the weather

Whilst I carry on swinging

My headache sideways

Dunno either to confirm or deny

Whether I balance or juggle my head

A tick? A broken fragment in need of a leash

Is that an order or a poorly elaborated instruction?

I think we are different

But mutual consensus leads me to believe otherwise

We are one and the same

We, see, the, same

Alas, no one is worth saving

This is not the end, this is the end of (off)

An emphasis on the worsen  ways
A blockade of sorts
Means and ways
From which (I wish) salvation is forfeit
Alongside your life my friend
Ever so wicked
It has gotten to the point
Of late
That I no longer care
My efforts are slim and shallow
Fake and transparent
Sad music finally makes sense
Turning the cycle into the conclusion
That we are through
 Traitor, reaper of souls
Your own demise my recollection of lies
Here I lay broken, gone from end to port
To end up drowning in stupidity, alas my ultimate answer
And our togetherness, our misery
I could not stop the World, and words are weak
To repent, I might forgive but I shan't ever forget
Your death and my mistake
Not a sign of good-bye, good wishes for a better life
What follows next? Mother, I can only cry at night
I fear the dark and I tremble at night
I acknowledge my regrets
But I shan't ever change my ways..

The tired mule wastes away, along the carrot still.

All aboard the last train going nowhere
In particular
No rush nor delay should slow us down
Onward as it stood for a poorer excuse
Of either birth right or privilege
To be discussed post-offense in therapeutic treatment
See Hall 5 for 'that', dearest
Ever so smooth, as if the very Wind embraced change
Silly me, rambling about
Head resting in a dead man shoulder
There cannot simply be love weighted down
By past regrets and climbs still
Onward up that Hill, there don't you see
Limbs fall flat, were it ever sand and decay
Sadness and despair
Inflating those who stare and command
Comment and entertain
Three cheers for defeat and fences
That surround those too weak to build defenses
And tarnish their egos, set aside for a rainy day
That never truly came

Surely one is worth more then this
Two bullets and dry turkey
A gift of God and pain for a fortnight
Calculating cost with the expertise
Of a blind man that walks dreadfully fine
Great indeed, backwards and onward
Cannot be stopped, furthermore:
won't you let me know,
as we set below,
deep en-traced in our mowing temper
oblivious to traffic and the overall commotion;
that you didn't had to go

Time gets slow
Eyelids struggle
My breath breaks through
But the body gives way
Ever so fragile, eternity no more
Kiss me darling
If only you could.

One wants the World. perish the word, forgot to stay in touch, master of another

Have you been drinking at night?
NOW
Surrendered by unbounded thoughts
NOW
Going to fine places, hurray
NOW
Wishing for nothing else of late
NOW
Loving another, the chariot aboard
NOW
Despaired, banging the wall like a drum
NOW
Burning, wasting away
NOW
Spreading kerosene like a bad habit
NOW
Parking his self-doubts in sub-zero slots
NOW
Gambling his hate, winning big
NOW
Preaching a sea of salty tears
NOW
I know not where to turn to
NOW
Towards tomorrow we row

In the finest hour, pain is the kinder reminder. I still hate surprises though.

I hold a theory of old
Remote and absolute
About personal space and prayer
Firm like scars
As crimson as the familiar hatred that binds
Unit dear ones, do not cry tonight
We were in the verse of change
Our undoing was hoping for salvation
Whenever we understand, or better yet
Whenever we understand we ARE
our own masters, architects of our devises
makers of our own prisons and demise, alas;

Oh my, I thought I had made it clear, clearly not
How I hate this old jiggle
The scene, the tone, the self-embrace
As we sing ourselves to sleep
To rest my head on her bosom again
Haven't I told you? About this theory of mine
It revolves around personal space
or lack of it.
A barrier, pushing grounds to a mental breakdown
A powerful accelerator of the heart pulse
How awful to become embarrassed
How sinful could it possibly be
To admit I have this highly regarded need
for some lovely fingers massaging my skull with intent
to caress my hair, hold me close and deary, keeping my safe through the night
no more nightmares, no more hounds barking at my ears
I swear I am either going insane
or its a folly ironic state of affairs this world has came to
we must actually been striving straight down to this lonesome end-game result
To swallow the pills and end up alone? Now now, everyone may got a disease
But to gang-up on shallowness? Clear the way, fuck the sorrow and see you lot tomorrow.

Pour me

I drink to forget I am alive
I drink to forget I know you
I drink to forget I survived

In order to howl to the moon
Without looking half-baked
Effort brings the cake home
Poor me, oh poor me
Do pour me another
I haven't the faintest idea
What I ought to moan of late
I might faint, I might explode
Due to lack of enthusiasm
Should come to no surprise
How much more needy
I wished I had no control
Pull the trigger and boom
No limit, effortlessly fading
Away to the bottom of the next
Bottle that would, could be
My sole comfort and support
When things are rough
When life gets harsh
I drink to forget why I started

Shot the next man you see
Shot the messenger
The glass knocking at wood
Shall bring me better luck
Pour me another
I came from a broken home
And I got a worse excuse to go back to
Take pity at this soul
And let him sing his anguish through liquor
His throat will grow tired
Set aflame again and again
'It' has grown worse off late
I throw back some for the sheer amusement
Hoping to kill boredom
My bed composes of glass shards and agony
Vomit for a blanket and self-loathing instead
of a much needed shower
Ahah but you itch are nearly out of my mind