Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Round


Trough the new round, passing all the lines
decay is the virtue in my soul
were a sentimental hole is obsolete.
My thoughts needs algebraic translation
a 7 dimension twilight zone,
were I still search in reverse-write books.

Trough a round, erasing all the lines,
a waitress dreams about the door to fly away.
A music is playing out of tone,
out of luck, out of charm
the simple night in the city rejection bucket
only causing a lost direction.

What is the matter
with the heart open, heart broken?
To much time thinking alone
searching the kiss of live.

Resurrection, the promise
the grave, the changing dress room of life.

The marquee promise:
"use the dream, hold the dream"
To Hell the dream!
No more!

Exposing sad histories in a world in extinction.
Looking for the velvet dream from a polaroid time machine

The fool men memorise the numbers,
and the prince is keeping is Cinderella’s slippers.
Would you leave a palace full of dream of treachery tales?
A life made of best sale tales

Maybe this was a situation of thrill and chase.
Maybe this history will be always beyond my reach,and my heart was playing fool.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

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