Morbo
Registrierter Benutzer
Man kennt das ja - eigentlich hatte man den Abend mit anderen Aufgaben verplant, aber dann schlägt doch irgendein komischer Gedankenblitz zu.
Ganz frisch wollte ich diesen Text noch loswerden und freue mich über jeden Kommentar:
sun is falling gently
on houses made of dirt
roses sprouting slowly
to cozen and to hurt
lost myself to apathy
at the artificial lake
air is getting thinner
with every breath to take
...but i'm not here...anymore
the water draws a picture
i refuse to believe
grey colors shape a figure
built by loss and grief
a preacher without bible
in a church out of use
and a creased paper saying:
I'm an artist without muse
...and i'm not here...anymore
without even wanting
my hands are willing to pray
let the rain wash the ashes
of my broken dreams away
let hailstones crash on my skin
it feels so good to feel
connect me to myself again
let my reflection heal
...let it heal...again
Ganz frisch wollte ich diesen Text noch loswerden und freue mich über jeden Kommentar:
sun is falling gently
on houses made of dirt
roses sprouting slowly
to cozen and to hurt
lost myself to apathy
at the artificial lake
air is getting thinner
with every breath to take
...but i'm not here...anymore
the water draws a picture
i refuse to believe
grey colors shape a figure
built by loss and grief
a preacher without bible
in a church out of use
and a creased paper saying:
I'm an artist without muse
...and i'm not here...anymore
without even wanting
my hands are willing to pray
let the rain wash the ashes
of my broken dreams away
let hailstones crash on my skin
it feels so good to feel
connect me to myself again
let my reflection heal
...let it heal...again
- Eigenschaft