through dark

I don’t have enough

words in myself to name

all the waves your way

gives me,


through dark

rooms of undeveloped

images repressed in

youth, unwilling to see

with honest eyes when

I move so right

in your blinding lights,

strobe and disrobe,

I don’t want to know

if it’s real or not,

don’t care much

if there’s no mutual

exchange of shotgun smoke

in rings


just like I am


On Tradition

Aus Gott wird man gebor'n, in Christo stirbet man. //////////////// Und in dem heil'gen Geist fängt man zu leben an.


"If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space." - anonymous




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