The Unworthy

The blurriness
Of today’s melancholy
Gets to see a last glimpse
Of my bliss
Washed away with the tsunami
Of my own monstrosity
Called unrelenting relief
That sickness has left
The reborn host
And crawls back to the whole
Where it was once found
With ignorance
Of how big the beast was
Without even showing
It’s thorn teeth
And blistered claws
You can still see
The blood of the unknown
Out of the hungering mouth
She kept hidden
For so long
And left me
With a black curtain
around my neck
But I’d take away the virginity
Of their defeat
With a laughter so sharp
Even the guardian would hear
And accept
Cuz the arrogance
They serve
Kills every fucking tear
Of compassion
That once dripped out of that hole
Located on the left chest
Which healed

When the thunder hit
The cursed lighthouse
And the broken
Stopped loving
The unworthy

Follow Me

Our tokens no longer guide us
They’ve become the destroyers
Of love
Our bodies were once
So limitless
And free

How you screamed of joy
when I expanded
Inside your perfect presence
And desired
For life’s greatest moment

That dark curly hair
which I loved to pull backwards
It made you scream
And shiver
And long
For much more

Will I ever look
Into your eyes again?


Your eager hands
Took my heart

You embraced it
Loved it
Adored it
Drowned it in your desire
And eventually crushed it
With a relentless grief

Now you took my eyes too
I can constantly see
The path I took
To survive this storm
But your clouds of the past
Are still forming up on me

The barrier
Of my substantial pillar
Which stands for hope
Is broken
I am broken
My body is broken
My heart is broken
Only the contrast between love and pain represents my current mood

I’m floating
I’m vibrating
Somewhere between them

Hoping to find
Your footprints
In the sand
Of the unknown


Life is a personified chaos.
With only one entry point.

We died,
In a place with a one-faced water spitter that ran out of its recourses.
Cause of death,
we’ve let it slip away.

The greeks only had one question after a man died:
“Did he have passion?”

In my opinion this is just all a maze
to bring me back to where it all started,
And eventually fly back

to Never Neverland.

4th Of August

With her dark curly hair,
She steals the wind
Along one side of her neck.

She goes where se goes.
Right across the sea.

Well I envy her perfection.

The way she wears her hat,
Will be my beacon
When our light finally goes out.

I could say
I lost her somewhere
Between the crushing waves,
And the 4th of august
At 3am.

Driving My Car Towards The End

Choose one of the two songs to play while reading this scribbling.

Inside the glass cage on wheels with sore windows,
Empowered by the winter’s coldness,
The vast drowning blocks
Of a rotten humanity drift along.
Where you can smell the gore of a petrified city
That lost it’s virginity
A long time ago.
With in the middle
A boulevard headed towards
The door of the escapism
Which I’m picturing inside that frame
I once got from you.

I hear you sing:
“This is the end!
Of our elaborate plans, the end!”
That’s when I scream back:
“I’m driving my car on Geneva Road!”

Wandering where this callout might take me,
My mind yells at me.
Trying to make me understand
I should keep pushing that desperate throttle
Towards the 150km/h,

But then the unnoticed voice centered in my heart wispers to me,
Saying that I should leave a trail behind.
Existing out of the endangered winged bugs inside me.

They wave at me,
While the maker left them for dead.
Nevertheless they are satisfied of their completion.
They took us to the end of the road and back.
They showed us a wonderful fraction
Of the view we had in front of us.

Let our white crow,
That stands for the door to satisfaction,
Look back in happiness
Towards the black forest.

Our realistic view on the inferno Where we were born as victors.
The enclavement where the bird looked down on us with pride,
And saw us as one.
The place that eventually got us trapped
Inside our own disgust,
And made you
Turn away