Roots and branches.There are smiles with ashes flavor
and sad halves that are windblown
days can tarry, and hours hide away
claws can cuddle and birds show a bad side.
There are shadows that hide our faces
and others that grow with the flames behind us;
the more intense the fire, more dense the hell
the more colors we see, the more beautiful are the freaks.
Sometimes we clear those shadows by turning off lights
then looking at the mirror we find quiescence
we intoxicate ourselves from it and we can dream
become a friend of us: Darkness.
I've seen branches growing twisted
others that nail down as splitted stakes
both of them suck from the crimson amber
and grant slumber between death a life.
Be afraid; is called insanity
and walk alone; a wasted life
call yelling to the past; an arrhythmic song
and throw kicks to wind; childishness
Bones and flesh and a lost key
leery we safeguard the alchemy inside us
we're a science that gave up.
Incomplete and broken, we seek tuning.
Stop spinning meaningless,