Time is a frozen image

[...Hands that grab me
and stop my fall
toward a black hole
with no memories
made of torment and pain
and the fog slowly lifts
to recover mental faculties
someone believes in me
a woman to love ...]

The past is
a child looking out the window
that does not follow the lesson
in the school that manufactures gears
a great hatred toward authority
the class struggle
nothing can stop convictions
nor police batons
 
Nothing seems to ever change
materialism always win
idealists must disappear
the search for an escape
in some distant virgin lands
or lost in the universe
of lysergic acid
 
A strong sense of defeat
the race towards self-destruction
brain death with medication
and more or less legal hard drugs
 
Hands that grab me
and stop my fall
toward a black hole
with no memories
made of torment and pain
and the fog slowly lifts
to recover mental faculties
someone believes in me
a woman to love
 
The energy of the best days
the stubborn integrity of the warrior
the desire to carry on
The necessary work that I hate
grasping every handle
fight for survival
There is again a crisis
they say
There is again a war
many wars indeed
 
A never-ending story
the culprits are always the same
victims are always the same
few people are struggling
 
Does not exist any present
only for a few moments
and has quickly passed,
so little time remains
I need to draw quicker than thought
and write faster than words
otherwise all will be lost
 
Consciousness and culture
are our future
and a friendly technology
on a human scale
Otherwise will be
an unpredictable morrow:
the dull buzz of monitors
the sound of white noise
a frozen image
 
"The clock is ticking
I forgot the past
not knowing about the future
only few moments remains
for happiness
and when I cross your sweet door
I lose myself
in the deep space
of your dark eyes
only then,
tears and despair
seem to be forgotten."