Heavy is the smell of cinnamon,
Vorweinachtlichen in the air
warm thoughts flood my senses,
The sweet taste of Met stunned me,
still and peaceful is the cloud forest.
It bear the clammy hands,
the torch through the night,
faster it goes up the hill,
it blows the smell of apple pie in the frostbitten nose,
and the thoughts rushing advance,
warming at fireplace.
Finally climbed into the festivities,
runs burning liquor down his throat,
it glows and sparkles in the glow of the fire,
the fiddle strikes up a merry song,
you sit at the flames,
dances and laughs,
and hears the old Sängen Minnen,
over long periods and some whipped battle.
Montag, 23. Januar 2012
8. April 2004
You're all
I run to the back,
all-
I run away from what,
the longing
which forces me to my knees,
the fear
devouring me alive,
all this just you alone,
and there will never be anyone and'res,
so I'm never alone in the heart,
because there will always be yours,
and when the time segregate us
is my purpose in life past,
and only death is it,
the freed me.
I run to the back,
all-
I run away from what,
the longing
which forces me to my knees,
the fear
devouring me alive,
all this just you alone,
and there will never be anyone and'res,
so I'm never alone in the heart,
because there will always be yours,
and when the time segregate us
is my purpose in life past,
and only death is it,
the freed me.
seperate Vanities
Separate vanities,
lost thoughts
broken dreams,
vanished in the sea, such as foams,
tortured heart,
consumed by fire,
in a world of glass.
lost thoughts
broken dreams,
vanished in the sea, such as foams,
tortured heart,
consumed by fire,
in a world of glass.
riders on the strom
Death Killer on the road,
where Angels die tonight,
riders on the storm,
living dead in this house we´re born,
Nightwalker wasting the dawn,
dancing tears,
sailor of drunken roses,
with witchfire and pagan prayer,
breaking through your mind,
find the monsters and shadows,
in the heart of a devil´s child.
where Angels die tonight,
riders on the storm,
living dead in this house we´re born,
Nightwalker wasting the dawn,
dancing tears,
sailor of drunken roses,
with witchfire and pagan prayer,
breaking through your mind,
find the monsters and shadows,
in the heart of a devil´s child.
Samstag, 21. Januar 2012
J.D.
where the sun beats,
because it is what will be,
the thunder was it,
but not more,
in the raging waters of Hall's is now,
and never again will be.
Who will it be?
Who will burn?
I want to dream-
going to sleep,
bury me under dead earth.
Light of Dawn
Bright morning light,
warm floading through my dark,
brightly lit all the land
awaken all life again,
that lay at night in sleep.
warm floading through my dark,
brightly lit all the land
awaken all life again,
that lay at night in sleep.
Did I found it? - Inspired by Arthur Rimbaud
I have found it,
my everything?
I can not live without,
and what is irreplaceable;
Only for me?
Or will one day
be a different person?
it may be a human?
My everything,
I have to find it,
before it is too late for me
but what if I find it,
and lose it again?
I dare not to remember
What reason would I have even-
to live?
my everything?
I can not live without,
and what is irreplaceable;
Only for me?
Or will one day
be a different person?
it may be a human?
My everything,
I have to find it,
before it is too late for me
but what if I find it,
and lose it again?
I dare not to remember
What reason would I have even-
to live?
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