LOOSING OR GRINNING
Heal my scars with injures anew
cut my flesh with your tongue sharpened blade
on the invisible and unwitnessed path
of lives recovering in shade
of peaceful gloom
prelude of doom
feed me again with hunger
dispatch anger in shape of silence
that I can hear that I can feel
in the sudden absence of violece
I am thirsty and my boiling blood
does not seem enough for us both.
We should never understimate the power exerted by close living souls on our Weltanschauung.
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