domingo, 7 de abril de 2013

Thoughts are murder, illusion and power

Statues flying into the skies,
Where is my mind,
Oh, it's in the eyes,
I'm blasted and blind,
Shouting out everybody's lies.

I'm a lunatic,
A lunatic with stones.
And I don't know what emotions are,
I'm too busy healing bones;
That were unwanted, broken
And swollen.

But there they go;
The skies and oh, do they know.
My addiction is absolutely for them,
And where are the nightmares
That prevent me from existing,
In the strangest perspective?

I know a cerebral refreshment,
It was brought by the most perfect hands;
The nature itself,
The sun that shows from the sky,
The rain and the penetrating acid very high.

I'm trying for this writing to make any sense,
It doesn't because I'm indecent.
But if I were decent,
I would be absolutely senseless,
And that doesn't make any sense to me.

Ricardo Rodrigues

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