***

It takes a lot to curb a desperate verse,
It takes a lot to train one’s ear for hearing,
To learn that life, being a dreadful curse,
Still is the finest thing for its beginnings.

It takes a lot to learn to never crave,
It mostly takes the essence of existence…
Yet, still it takes so little to escape,
It only takes one’s willingness to listen,
.
And some forgotten melody, perhaps,
A silent poem for a silent dreamer…
A bit of hope, a bit of guts and nerves,
An image of a mystical redeemer…

It takes a lot to carve one’s life in blood,
Would it be rhythms or tunes – you're always bleeding…
But since you paint the darkness of the night,
Be dressed in black, for that’s the garment needed!

And merge with colors since you dare to paint,
Go die in every sound to simply listen,
Corrupt the language, let a word be said!
But when it comes to singing, whisper, whisper…


And once you’ve heard the demons of your soul,
Do not expel them, love them, guide them, lead them.
The only truth is you, broken and sole,
Embrace acceptance as the greatest freedom!