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Suflete moarteDes âmes dépraveés,
des âmes perdues,
în nori făr' de scăpare.
plânse și neîntoarse
în păduri nordice,
pustii și deșertice.
O, suflet pierdut
ce te chem în noapte.
Des âmes dépraveés,
des âmes perdues.
Son of NeptuneI've lost my heart
in the burning sand,
among the dunes.
A bright sun shines right upon it,
brighter than your gaze ever was
when you laid your eyes
I am the bastard son of Neptune,
the child of the waves.
I come crawling,
full of algae,
rejected by the sea,
by the land,
I've lost my heart
among dunes so empty,
emptier than your soul,
emptier than your gaze.
Moartea vrabioareiMâinile construiesc
visuri, vise, dorinţe, iluzii.
Colivia de mucegai,
cu pereţii săi negri,
sugrumă şi ultima dorinţă de viaţă
din sufletul vrăbioarei.
Penaju-i tot mizer şi ciufulit,
ochii săi de onix abia ce mai mişcă,
Mâinile ce ar putea să dărâme
stau nemişcate, plictisite.
Visul tacutNecunoscutului ii ard
în timp ce simte, atinge,
Punând mâna pe pieptul visului
atinge văzduhul şi negura vremii.
Moartea tace, timpul trece.
Pendulul încă mai vorbeşte.
Tăcere ce o poţi tăia cu gândul,
precum întunericul coşmarului.
The Last CallBound by shackles
so old, that they,
they have etched their way
under the skin,
no longer to be seen,
always to be beneath my skin.
I see your face in the mirror,
I see mine, I see the other,
I see no one.
The cold, sweet,
tender kiss of the bullet awaits.
It keeps circling my path,
it smiles at me.
The guard shouts:
“Step away heathen,
come right up to the merry-go-round.”
The vile scum I am, I see it now,
in the mirror.
The puddle of water that has become my mirror,
in this hole of a cage.
“The scum, the devilish scum
must cry and cringe.
It must work itself into salvation.”
But there is none, no salvation
to hope for, to wait,
Tis only minutes till they off us,
tis only minutes till the darkness.
We Were Ahead of Our PackBottled tension,
Shards of ice running through my cheeks
and I am still doing alright, doing alright.
Freezing hands, freezing eyes,
freezing bodies that must get closer
to get warmer.
Give me your hand and let me be your lover,
let me hold you when you shiver in spasms
of deathly inner coldness.
Don't go down into the dying light,
don't go down into the dirty mud.
Bottled tension, bottled love,
I stand before you, ready to duel.
My blood runs quicker and quicker,
it's like a train, or an airplane,
running, speeding, flying in my veins.
Amped up speed, dopamine, oxytocin,
I stand there ready with my hand on the holster.
I stare into your eyes, I draw, I shoot, I fall,
...Tension, is building between
our bones; cracking
these boundaries that bind
[lets not get lost in the moment
In TimeI wait:
underneath my thoughts,
through its riverbeds.
tears fall into dry banks
memories fill them.
Our Wayward Starsguide the specimen
through the maze
and through the rain
rinsing our clothes
like they're still on fire
and somewhere, well
they probably are
and you pray
like tomorrow itself
is the fuel
that empties our dark places
like what lives there
goes away at dawn
but it doesn't
and i pray
like tonight itself
is the dark
that fuels our light
like what lives in each
feeds the ugly other
and it might
but, we're all prey
and the dream itself
is the place where
our chemical flames
hit the surface
flailing as we sink
in panicked clothes
from a distance
we must look like
lost, accepting the
drowning slow burn
of our descent
we look like what we are
MoreWith a broken heart- you’ll starve
All the love you’ll receive will drip out
And constantly you’ll be ‘needing’ more.
Love's FearHe holds her,
maybe he is ready
to talk about love.
He takes a breath.
She takes a breath.
She is not ready for love,
her heart is cold;
left from a frozen wasteland of a childhood,
she can not receive his love.
He takes another breath,
maybe its not the right time,
He noticed she was upset,
the scars on her arms left a trail
to her heart.
He is unsure.
She is unsure.
Maybe love is possible,
a hug can go a long way in life
thawing ones insides.
Chewing the half moons of his fingers.
Chewing the half ways of her fingers.
He sighs, ready to take the big step,
lightly taps her on the shoulder;
he is now ready he thinks.
He opens his mouth to speak.
She opens her mouth to speak.
I bet she smells of laurel and pineI've made a career of
standing on the back porch -
calling your name into
the wide-open ears of
You step from the house
to beckon me inside
but I swear a piece of you
is missing; escaped
into wilder arms years ago.
Asabikeshiinh (Filter)Asabikeshiinh (Filter)
I wear the dream snare like a chain.
The willow hoop filled with spider thread,
sway loose as the aves feathers
and the spun yarn traps the fallen.
I tread subconsciousness
like salmon swim
in the falls of Williamette.
And watch the net
take hold of chimera,
a phantasm of phenomena
as I greet the cousin of death
with a firm shake of the hand
and respectful grin.
But wisps of spirits tempestuous
reverberate throughout the lace,
as the new day slowly begins to take shape.
Light returns to Earth as my eyes open.
Conceptions' theories last so long
before absoluteness' presence grabs hold.
I'd rather immerse myself in abstractions.
Vis de iarnaCâteva coroane, sfântă domniță?
Câteva coroane, brav rege?
Să pot și eu să cumpăr ceva de mâncare
pentru mine, pentru familia mea.
Să îmi schimb zdrențele de pe mine,
să îmi iau o cârpă să m-acopăr.
Dați-mi două minute din viața dumneavoastră
să vă spun povestea mea.
Scumpă domniță îmbracată în mătăsuri fine
vă puteți despărți de ceva galbeni?
Un miros de scorțișoară umple bătrâna stradă
acoperită de o pătură de ninsoare
Clădirile ponegrite se apleacă încet înspre mine
parcă să mă sufoce, parcă să mă încălzească.
O, tu Lună amară, pleacă să vină Soarele.
O, tu iarnă, dispari să se întoarcă ghioceii pe pământ.
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