Pesquisar neste blogue

segunda-feira, 25 de maio de 2020

raison d'etre

just a promisse unkeep
that lingers
in a unknow raison d'etre


the leap,
to which all
relentlessly surrenders

at dusk



servant of the slime, from the damp prison cell

i learned my lesson well

this time

perfection

is now scalloped in every features



sinisters sisters

came to pay us promises

with their wide open veins

where wise men once spoke with indiference

calling out for a cure, in deliverance

to makes us forget

that we're at the edge
 (of a shipwreck everyday)


a letal dose to stumble, eye to an eye to supress this fray

challenging those men to deny their evasing treads


- to defy all distorted voices in a call



The Trapeze, by Max Beckmann (1923)






Sem comentários:

Publicar um comentário