quarta-feira, 24 de outubro de 2012


The ferocious passion is running out,
Why do I feel so slow in my mind?
I think I'll have to wind up my thoughts,
I must not be tempted to fail,
Otherwise I rather finish myself outside;
Feeling the cold breeze,
And the ever lasting tease - inside.

Flying around the cities of wisdom,
I could never feel any better.
It called me but I didn't want to go,
I was feeling right, at last;
With my creatively measured actions,
Going around in circles,
Throwing away my eternal passions.

This uncomfortable situation is unreal,
I thought I was going to feel thrill,
I'm writing and I'm trembling,
These voices are frightening,
Please, help me,
I'm not being myself,
Please, forgive my insanity!
Help is all I'm hoping,
These voices filling my head,
These strange and scary transmissions filling my head!


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