Are you too fond of the world beyond? Maybe you need – like a reed near a pond – something to eat. Ignore the fake: Imagine a lake where the winds make waves create illusions and tales of fate. So rhymes become form and this is the norm, the narration of life: the focus to strive the endless want the fear for »beyond«.
I am not here yet I am just the essence of things to come of dreams to fear of love to conquer I am the others the wordless builders of holy fates of destinies unseen I am the scribe the ponderer who ponders way too much instead of listening to them which are the things to come
I feel time behind every breath behind every heartbeat behind every smile every pain, every step I feel time and its just it: that death is not only a possibility but there mere outcome of this what I call life. Without life there is no time and without time, there is no movement and yet I wish I could stop for one eternal moment All precious things are lost when time goes by when smiles are withering,…