And in the memory of the artist,
a vague shadow blurring in the starry night.
A moon falling in the deep blue sea,
as nature screams its own despair.
The idea of a man trapped into life.
A never-ending struggle till the inevitable end.
Soft and warm sheets are waiting for me
in the dead of the night,
when I would be supposed to sleep.
Closed into the kitchen,
colors melting into slanting lines,
red, blue, green, white, green.
Faces of the same face.
A radical thought.
Fear of time passing by.
The sound of your breath.
The sound of your voice chewing me out.
My offense to you.
Wrapped into the covers, waiting for a lonely morning.
The genius of a restless soul.
Images of northern beauty.
A red-haired vampire, draining you out as life tries to help you.
The frustration of being alone.
The idea that no one cares.
I write, nobody reads.
You’re all around me.
Blood flowing from a hand, the bullet is still into the flesh,
as love fades away.
A cloud hangs over me,
as I see the three ladies staring at the nature, in silence.