Nothing I could ever say, write or sing
Could put me out of todays misery
it is, what we hope for
it is what we cherish for; dream on
what will bring to us, the joyed innocence
at the last breath we shall borrow
the day we die
the day we live forever.
The day sorrow endured
the day we stayed in hell
vanitism
retrospect of a future life
mistaken
forsaken
and then forgotten.
Was it worth it?, some might ask
Not, if worth considered asking, shall I reply
Burn, rot and perish
inconceivable creep of alien nature
lunatic on Mondays
husband on Sunday night
god forbid, children
god forbid.
Arte: Sergio Garval
