That sound is amazing: the sound of freedom is a muted scream
Falling ashes suspended in a dream, where tear drops are rain drops
And life is still.
The heart is still blazing: the heart that gives blood
Black red like burning oil fields, the love, an obsidian flow
Hissing on the surface and simmering on the inside.
The memory, that memory, is seared: the memory now void of truth
In a vacuum I age back to my youth, blinded by miscomprehension
I see a rigid future.
The sight is a beauty: sight is a cruelty when taken as it is
Dilated pupils floating in their sockets like dead fish, in the sea
Tired of tasting salt.
Old bones turn to ash: aching bones make that music
In my wake shadows dance looking foolish, with gaping mouths
Like swallowed reflections.
Time is travel: there’s no time like now to go nowhere
The speed of life is a living nightmare, death is the pit lane
The past just a deserted wasteland.
The meaning is lost: the meaning which means nothing to any other
My mouth filled with molten lava, the world is populated with spies
No outcome is fixed: so out come the mixed messages
Every effort effortless, until