The wheels look at the skies
The eyes flowed out and were
Transmitted into the memories
Of the futurists
I give you flowers
Today is March the 8th
You smile and think I’m joking
No way, my sweetheart, no way…
I want to destroy this empire of rules!
I am too lazy to create my own…
You’ll be unable to exist in my chaos
You’ll die…. But I never will cry…
The glass is broken with your left hand
You’re bleeding, my dear
That glass was broken for me, I recall
But … can’t you forget that all?
I want to destroy the empire of rules!
I am too lazy to think out something new
Nobody can exist in such chaos
I will die with the thought of triumph!
* Anomie*
© Copyright: Critique, 2001
Свидетельство о публикации №101031100051
Свидетельство о публикации №101031100051
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