Every morning at six.
Has it ever occurred to you.
Can you hear me at all.
Keeping still..
Almost nothing now though.
Silence, silence and silence.
With a lot of things on my mind.
A cold cup of strong coffee.
Quenching my thirst lightly.
Sitting on an uncomfortable bench.
Now I’m left with me.
With me and me alone.
Hanging and hanging on.
Losing and losing my mind.
Good questions have no answers.
Good questions, no answers.
Rest my body, rest my mind.
Green fields, and gentle breeze.
Calmly and soft, slowly.
Dissolving and dissolving.
Strange ladies, made me nervous.
Took me in and gave me breakfast.
I will always have a sun and a ground.
Which I love.
Easy and relaxed.
I don’t even wanna hear them stories.
Whatever you do, do not read this on.
Otherwise, I will have to inspire the soul out of you.
Zero and its values.
Please have it killed.
Blood and red wine.
A man and a God.
Half animal-half machine.
1994.
I always keep searching for something, all my life.
Searching and searching so hard.
Sometimes I forget what I am searching for, literally.
There was a silver heart.
27th of September, 1994.
Sick and tired of this life.
In and out of this life.
In the eyes that stare.
I still think I am not just one of these some people.
So silence and nothing’ness.
I wake up everyday.
With things and human beings around.
Let me solve this.
Fix it even it is not broken.
But don’t let the whole world knows about it though.
So hear me out.
Listen, nothing is coincidence.
Everything is extremely intentional.
Who is the one, that hurt you?
Who is the two, I want to talk to him.
Or her.
What kind of question is that.
How fucked up am I?
Fucked-up-most, I guess.
Flowing slowly, gradually low.
Deaf and blind.
Reasons to wake up in the mornings.
Mute. Mute. Mute.
Breathing.
Inconsistency and inconsistency.
In total chaos.
Free time inversely equals to busy’ness.
Well, you don’t know.
I know.
Passion.
So great a passion.
You wouldn’t know what happen when that happen to you.
And it happens a lot.
Eighty more years.
And the world is mine.
I will just sit tight right now.
The Second Soul.
Demon deeds and blackness control me.
Blow. Blowing.
I am twenty and I like it.
Love it and like it.
Twenty twenty.
Thinking and thinking.
Every morning at six.
Every night at twelve.
Sit and stare.
Life with ups and downs.
With in-betweens.
Maybe…
At dawns…
Heaviest metal.
Touches, touches and glimpses.
Reason this.
Reason that.
Now how do you feel?
I would end up counting the moons.
Pointing beyonds.
Every night at twelve.
There …… ….. …. … .. . . . . . .

triblenon-2

In: English Poem Posted By: triblenon Date: May 30, 2009  All Time