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Literature Text
For months I've been walking on fire
And kneeling on pieces of glass until I pass out
The headless horse rider grabbed me and took me away
Today I am very much similar to a piece of dead wood
My friends are solely shivers
I'm wandering through memories until I'm lost
12 000 paddles and only one rower
1000 balls and solely one pin.
I've swallowed a lake of bloody tears
I'm already running around with silver scissors
Thick metal circles are the rock I'll carry
My hill is a vulcano running away from me
My temples and the light of the trigger
Followed by eternal struggle with blinded freaks
Being whipped by dark, sharp shadows
"Happily ever after" at the end of some other story.
I am not smiling at anything, I turn my head
The future is just another obligation pressing me
Seven flies hit at once, but the award is a fiasco
Fruits from this tree will be rich in deadly poison
From this point on, there's solely the straight line
The dashed one has been erased from the list
An endless meadow has bursted in front of my eyes
I sit down and wait for the thunder to take me away.
And kneeling on pieces of glass until I pass out
The headless horse rider grabbed me and took me away
Today I am very much similar to a piece of dead wood
My friends are solely shivers
I'm wandering through memories until I'm lost
12 000 paddles and only one rower
1000 balls and solely one pin.
I've swallowed a lake of bloody tears
I'm already running around with silver scissors
Thick metal circles are the rock I'll carry
My hill is a vulcano running away from me
My temples and the light of the trigger
Followed by eternal struggle with blinded freaks
Being whipped by dark, sharp shadows
"Happily ever after" at the end of some other story.
I am not smiling at anything, I turn my head
The future is just another obligation pressing me
Seven flies hit at once, but the award is a fiasco
Fruits from this tree will be rich in deadly poison
From this point on, there's solely the straight line
The dashed one has been erased from the list
An endless meadow has bursted in front of my eyes
I sit down and wait for the thunder to take me away.
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Written on 22nd March 2006. Contrary to what you might thing, it is NOT a poem about apocalypse, otherwise it wouldn't be in this category. But in some ways, it is a poem about waiting for a possible end, which may or may not come. Napisano 22. marta 2006. Suprotno onome što biste mogli da pomislite, ovo NIJE pesma o apokalipsi, inače ne bi ni bila u ovoj kategoriji. No, na neki način, ovo jeste pesma o iščekivanju mogućeg kraja, do koga može, ali i ne mora doći. Moje pesme su na DA do daljnjeg dostupne samo na engleskom, kako bih ih zaštitila, žao mi je. © 2007 - 2024 iva-is-me
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