Flashed Desires of a Phony

Follow the snake to that gold lit cave,

Reach to the end of the tavern,

Resting beneath your footsteps, those,

Those, uncovered, holy mystified snow flakes.

The flakes covered by the ashes of thy clouds,

Move until the thought of those souls are freed,

Never resting until we’ve reached,

The castle you build, fast uncovering under your truth.

Breathe in not out, because you are dead,

Fed by the truth of your files,

Lies and truth of the fragile path,

Path you chose to ride by your self.

Never lost on to those screams of the seen,

Me eyes have always wanted to gleam,

It won’t bite unless you have tasted,

Tasted the last fruit of your unfound insanity

No one will ever call out to you, your name,

It’s just the beginning of the end,

Follow me, don’t lead me,

Because in the end you will always fall,

As the path you will choose will always hold you down.

7th Symphony

^{7 th Symphony}

Wandering into the mist of loneliness,

The loneliness of the desperation,

Slowly crawls into my skin deep into the wounds.

I wonder in the wander, passion, pain of fire,

Picture this I won’t last till the end.

Shed it off, burn it off, rip it off,

Uncover yourself from the fascist face of life.

Cold yet it may seem, you are still lost,

Keep on pressing the button, the ice machine is still cold,

Seven life, and the satisfaction you crave for,

Are you living it up to the dream you were born for,

Suck it in, deep within, those worms will eat you,

And at the end you will desire to burn out yourself.

Professional Lust

From the first drop of the hot shower,

To the last sip of the wine,

She feels the senses in her body,

Chilling, running down the spine.

She runs down the hallway, wraps him in her arms,

They plunge in the darkness of their fire,

The divine kiss, spreads their wings,

Burnt every ounce of energy in the body, they breathe back.

Morning, and she wakes up alone,

Looks up, everywhere, only to find her clothes thrown,

Snorts up her last stuff,

And another day passes, waiting for another one to come.

‘Bag-aged’

You play in the park under the sun,

All you think about is carrying the fun,

Far away the flight catches you,

Inside those are demons with fired caves.

Laughter falls under the deepest sin,

And you will die leaving the life’s skin,

Grave beneath the shadow lies of those,

We trusted and for those we played with our lives.

Help me understand the substance of truth,

No one can run up the hill to that brute,

For which far away he threw his baggage,

There was nothing left but an uncalled handle

Wonder lusted years, glory moments,

Washed away under the seas currents,

For whom you died for never felt the hunger,

For which you have not pulled down your mighty thunder.