It’s hard to tell the saddest story

in a grey-wrapped sordid reality.

The steam of the beholder

and the everlasting day

at the end of the street

where you

and a thousand wasted words


When we walked

but did not

(for we stand at the end of the street)

the waxing moon smiled

we turned

and were shocked to see

it was dark

(that means the day was over)

but still the same

just two silent shadows on the ground


Standing just there

at the end of the world

the earth collapsed

into oblivion

a black hole in front of us

red-glowing eyes beckoning

it’s tempting

but the easiest way

the words seem not to come

a habit

we’re lost, surely

the devil is rising from the dead

(as well as the myth itself)

i’m paralyzed

I don’t believe my eyes

I’m much obliged to you

who set up this meeting

with the master of fire

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2 komentarjev na “The Meeting of the Dead”

  1. Sparkica pravi:

    Ta pesem mi je obudila spomine… ahhhh :(

  2. anubis anubis pravi:

    Zanimivo… Kakšne pa?


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