Strings of light, pearcing through the knowledge of the things we saw Showing the cracks on what, we thought, is real In the times when nothing could touch as deep And nothing wanted so much from us Our names were still our own Everything was so simple… Or is it just the perspective? Sometimes we melt our souls in tears for the loved ones killed in war Sometimes we look for a meaning of our true shadows The same ones that we are trying to escape from (But that happens only in times when the weight of our being becomes to heavy to endure Without loosing , our “self”) And we know we didn’t die for this. Then we meet our eyes above the glasses Filled with the unknown substance the famous barkeeper sold us For half the price. In the graveyard bar made out of pain With a door that says” do not enter” Do not enter if you want to stay sain And we bow our heads, ashamed, When the captain sings “What a great cause this used to be” While we remember the words a mother spoke above her child “It should have been me” We know how she felt Now we know what it’s like to understand our death Better then we understand our love Or our life. Looking around Through the combined mist born from tobacco smoke and our lost mind Hungry for a little bit of darkness from the mothers womb Or at least For the mid-legger of any women Hurting enough To ask for the salvation of her desire, From the forgotten heroes of confusion
Reason for writing:
It's in the title....
let's put it like this, I'm from kosova
Birth sign: Aries
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