can you describe the days of the past,
can you save the days of the future?
a breeze comes here, and it is the last
to bring us cold the holy cure.
is it possible to free the condemned,
to gaze upon the cloudy mist?
a soul tormented by a secret
leaves another empty list.
if the fugitive, in want of credits
has choked alone, his pitiful cry.
then you fled, the world of fits
but all you’ve got is a tasty lie.
your image, you search in vain.
an ex-convict, or a childish man.
and you doze off alone in the void
but wet dreams must be avoided.
after a strange wandering, you wake up
like a selfish prisoner, a herd’s tup.
emotionless, thoughts p*ss away
and get you to the endless bay.
the road has already clouded the tracks
to the troy of your ego, to the warring packs,
where your soul, became recidivist,
and married helen, to the darkest beast.
the costly shoes you hired yesterday
are rotting in the dirt, rotting away.
the fragile box, tears apart
overthrowing, the song of the sad.
and you wish to know, the naked earth,
but in that life, you’re dead, before your birth…