Amintirea ta-i sarata
Si cu gust amar de fata.
Cu picioare scurte-n brate
Si cu ganduri cenzurate,
Te deleg sa ma dezlegi
De-ale tale brate blegi.
Sarare
2
Arhive etichete: literatura
Sparks and Darks
Sparks and darks
Fight with me,
As I close my eyes.
Between the pieces
Of broken souls
And hidden scars,
I have no way
To see the stars.
Partajează asta:
My Twist
My stars are bloody,
My knife inverted.
My life trembles
Before the perverted
People that spank
And slap
And whip
Its little body.
My Capricorn,
My galaxy, my star.
My everything,
It seems so far.
And with a little twist
And a little mist
I hold the world in my fist.
Inspiration: me.
Partajează asta:
Dreams
My roads are not sunken,
I have not forgotten how to put
One foot in front of the other
And how to use my sword to cut vines.
Under the skies or under the waters,
I keep a steady pace and my eyes closed.
I see with my mind and feel where the road takes me,
While on the inside I keep dreaming my dreams.
Pic.
Partajează asta:
3/4
The greener the words,
The harder I swallow.
And no matter how hollow the woods look before me,
I’m dreaming of pink tomorrow.
The sweeter the sounds,
The bigger the gap.
Inside my whole heart and the mind and the thought
All I can gather is pieces of scrap.
The lighter the fire,
The rougher the bed.
I tremble and I cuddle in barbed wire
And my flesh is red.
Partajează asta:
Bicicleta lui George
Roata-n fata, roata-n spate,
Din pereche, jumatate,
Agatate de sireturi,
Sugereaza acareturi.
Jumatati de versuri prinse,
Inspitate si aprinse,
Se insira pe o foaie,
Pe sub pleata mea balaie.
Inrotite, agatate,
Vechi de prin deceniul sapte,
M-am gandit c-ar fi frumos
Langa tortul delicios.
Partajează asta:
The Liar & The City
The city of cold,
Of ruins and old
Is giving me plenty of motives to stay.
Why do you cose to run away?
The city of ash,
Of tired and trash
Has given me shelter, support and protection.
Why do you act like it’s an infection?
This city of words,
Of sharp wounds and swords,
Stopped giving me life and a dream long ago.
Why do you act like I am the foe?
Epilogue:
Isn’t poetic justice a wonder?
I suffered so long and alone and I wonder
That if I didn’t trick you, the trick is on me,
And my trick was so easy to see.
I’m all under spells and under a thunder.
I can’t bear the burden of this ugly blunder.
I’m sorry I tried to lie and to steal.
I thought that this city was the real deal.