segunda-feira, 9 de agosto de 2010

A Quarter Afterlife

Its a quarter afterlife
Ivan IIitch claim his right
One matter to jeopardize,
eerie screams that baffles me
chest awaited for the sins

Wet painting dripping and inviting
new shades of a unknown parallel
Took for granted the blinking
got to see your painters
running out of shell

Fuel of life, at least wasn't me
whist and power
sit to replace the limb, of a monster
How much more to inherit?
Look my sheet, once again,
so full of tears

Open the gates
Water tends to invade
empty spaces, unattainable dreams
Yes Sir, you might get soaked
New procedure of the daily grind

Its midnight afterlife
Ivan IIitch stole a prize
Stares at the lake he didn't take a bath
Cold water would freeze his eyes, squeeze our hollow bones
leaving us justified