Head in the Clouds
Published March 22, 2024
Digital Angels are flying South
Bad taste in your mouth
heavens gate looks unbound
Head in the clouds
no vagabond thoughts
no wasted rounds
when all is lost
unspeakable miracle grows
silent divider
will leave you breathless
life is a victim sacrificed tasteless
Will Blue -green sky remember
what we did in September
Will Earth die in shame?
when all is revealed like
cheap hookers game
I will be waiting
down by the sacred three
down where
the absolute mind can not flee
Do you,
remember me…
Can you finally see
Downtrodden are unnamed words
long forgotten
is warm flesh,
left in the land of the Totten
Is creative thinking verboten?
Clash of minds
ravaged concubine and augmented
dreams sailing into X Files
the minds of men are full of superficial lies
blind and used, they roll the voiceless dice
Smile…breathe just for another mile
White Wolf and the Hungry Shaking Mountain
A black snow and white palace
built in the middle of the sterile godless fountain
a place where nothing is given for certain
Life is cheap when we try to think too deep
stay awake
or return
to the comfort of the golden unbearable sleep?
We remember the glorious fight
we remember the blood imprinted in our unnegotiable sight
We remember, chasing the hollow heart
inside the fallen tooth awaits the trouble of maddening midnight
Stubborn will win
rest will talk to the blackest-born sin
Ice cold veins
who will stay alive
who else can remain
designated saints
righteous trouble
drinks salted
in vain teasing flames
Cold open window
dark rider
all ends in
the crying eyes of the translucent
penniless provider
Night is burning
life and death
together
like abandoned lovers are turning
Side by side, life, and death are catching the last ride
Death-reanimated wolves are finally howling
life in Red Veins sounds appalling
again, volatile redemption
and
a simple life are together calling
Resist or forget
fight or accept
what was alive
now is… forever, cold, and dead
Shallow Wind, cold heaven
or warm tongue of welcoming Hell
sacred ashes of obsidian theft
the decision is left
to the alarming voice
of the German-made Bell
rotting sulfur smell
unbound treason
can not yell
all is good
all is well
heaven in you
heaven in me
there is a place
where
hidden eye
can truly see
will you stay
try to fix
broken day
Can the simplest solution
be written
on the last ongoing train?
Answer
count to
three
say it…
Are you
coming
with
me?
Like, share, or Subscribe if you wish.
Stay frosty!