Creaks and groans Scare my old bones. Shatters and clatters, And nothing else matters. Trickling blackness beams Or so it seems; What eerie bleak noises From dead old machinery Of winter’s sad choices In dripping crimson scenery. Deep down secret cellars The past will...
Moral bombs attack! Cannot leave my body’s wreck, Lying wasted, burnt and black; There will be no turning back. Cities perish in the storm Of fire, heat and splinters. Warfare changed its rotten form In those cursed winters. Gentlemen like Mister Heston Have never...
Storm wraiths cry, the night creeps in; Borders between worlds grow thin. Light of the sun shines soft and weak, Thoughts drift lost in grey clouds bleak. Bereft of scent, air crisp and sharp; Melodies trickle from heathen harp. A cloak of silence heals weary lands...
Orange leaves are falling, Colder winds are calling. Dreary, wet and bleak, Yet wondrous colours Kiss my cheek. Yellow, red and crumbling fire Herald ho! the antlered Sire. He shall put the world to sleep, And milky sunlight in his keep. Whispering chatter in the air...
Pregnant riches trickling sweet, Hot and soaken thinnest sheet, Gasping in the brilliant glare; My heart’s fires gasp and flare. Caught in Life’s impudent lair, A vulgar mist thickens the air. It blurs my vision, steaming hot, Like swollen fruits before they rot....
(N)Euer Senf – mittelscharf, wenn’s geht