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Poem

One, two and fall, the same way as before, the right way to it all, heal the wounds in 
this wrist, your only i behold in front of me, living the prayers of a yesterdays world, 
denied and comprehended in no more than exiles of filthy air, intoxication, the 
subliminal words written every were, i see them here, i have them on the shoulders, i 
can feel the weight on me now, i know the times come and go, is all a time to see it 
doom, gore and violence crawls and destroys, once imagined, twice destroyed, 
nevertheless we all see same, same point of life, same way to act, like a perfect legion 
we strike on forward,  no mercy, no severity, no tomorrow, when there is no love the 
world becomes the same as yesterdays night, a bloody and lust feel pouring and 
dreaming out on us, living trough our sleepless nights and guarding the throne through 
for more nights of shouts and violent screams, there's not much to search for in this 
basket of miracles, dead miracles of a twice destroyed world, heal the wounds of 
tomorrow and forget those of yesterday, fear the times and loneliness to hold now, this 
year and the one to come shall never have weight on us again!

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