Sirrah – Rhea

To understand the stream of words

That in one moment subside into silence

Only to be reborn at the least expected time

But having lost the truth and original meaning

If I could fly

Oh if I could fly

But I’m not able even t’rise or tell colours

Here comes the time

Can’t hear the applause

Appreciation

Here comes the time to stop!

A thread ties strong the fibres of my hatred

Tightening the loop that hangs around my neck

The walls go sparking

Start tearing of my skin

This miserable coat that won’t let me run away

I scrape myself searching for a way to escape

Knowing it is bound to fail

Can see some lonely drops

congealing on the handrail

Even teh longest day

must sometime come to an end

To cath up with at least one thought

That dies, dissolves in twinkling of an eye

Among faded pages taht are dampened with sweat

In remote comes of non-existence frenzy

If I could fly

But I’m not able even t’rise or tell colours

Can’t hear applause

Appreciation

Here comes time

To stop!

Presenting my left hand

The right one? Who cares?

It left me…