Black Burned Soul
By the road, I am gathered.
Lost to lost inside lust.
Not to my belongings.
Always to my emotional longing.
Soft does melt inside.
The pure whiteness presented
by snow.
The heat measured by frost.
Alone by choice, easy to fake.
Break I do, the broken songs of
Take.
Instructions received, at the
voice.
The one which breaks the walls
in my mind.
I assume.
By my choice.
Falling sounds by crystal clear
flakes.
Stories became many, never to
be told.
Death has a grip.
The knot to rope tied not to slip.
Breathe the chair.
Not one for a human care.
Hanged by the hand.
Hell has no chance.
Holier to stand on nomads land.
Bitter is the breath I hold.
Bitter is the breath I sold.
To breathe.
But to exhale my torn black
burned soul.
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