clouds

half-hearted beast in the hands of a strainer-man,
my spirit... becomes astray more and more.. like any hole
in this great big flashy world... till i solely become a ghost,
a beast so drown and so gone... slower than the past - faster than any disease,
yes it is true...
i look into the world like is the future...itself,
even what i am living now is the ashes of the past,
well i know...
i ve realise what i am doing but am afraid to stick into the mystery,


i admire the flowers... grow betwean my grave,
i please the death... to hear the sound of my growling echo.

yes i am dead... and i am here - in the poisened air that  i breath
in the clouds that are listed in the ground... nailed in the ground