Marco Gustavo always thought he had it all in control until this evening he discovered his life was a wreck. His wife died in the hospital. On his way there, he had an accident which took his daughters legs.
He heard that demons spoke backwards, His lifes train retracts its steps.
He looks into the sky from his roof top, the stars shine brightly this evening leaving no trace of clouds in it. He brings out a cigarette. The fire from the lighter shines just like the stars in the sky, granting him a place in their picture.
He draws it all in, can feel the troubles ache in his chest. The sensational feeling, intense but troubling. Breathing it all out, passes it to the sky. He watches as it creates the clouds that weren't there before, making him a 'mini god'. A delicious feeling curbs death In the smoke.
Mystic creatures roam the mind
Inhuman suggestions fill the heart,
The strong but blind
The weak but discerning
The problems and their sting
The answers and their weight.
Glide the atmosphere
and mask my troubles,
Dance and disappear just as quickly
You awaken my mind to stroll
Where none can ever matter.
The cigarette and the lighter
The sadness and the laughter
The pain of the coward,
The defeated fighter.
I'll try to live...
Says the smoker.
0 comments:
Post a Comment