Night of the Long Knives

Nacht der langen Messer

It burns.

Litzei

We know who you are and what you are no longer. That subtle monster waiting for the breakout. The rules of old no longer apply, goodwill invalidated. That much more you will exploit the monster and careful what you shall return.

Hear Better

I like the thunder in the night, its more comforting than the silence, you are reassuredly alive.

Mellow Amble

Night is dark and cool, so I write.

The war that had occupied me for the past one year has officially ended. Supposedly we were all winners, just that some won more than others; a ticket of departure to new beginnings.

I don't think I became any better as a character. However, life as an unpredictable wave of patterns is panning out its language for me. Call it the self-fulfilling prophecies. Yes. Its better to leave, than to be left, so I came across a week earlier and saw it happen before my eyes. As we all savor the plundered bounties, equations of intersection divert once more. Cheers be to you mate.

A Good Not

A joke we no longer sing.

The Patient

We're are the real countries
Not the boundaries drawn on maps
or the names of powerful men

An Earth without maps

Nascent Faith

Tea brew fast
Drink to Life's elixir
Happiness, you wonder where it went
All can be found in a little cup
of undiscriminating brew
Whereas people
they are over-rated

Mission Myriad Marred

Middle ground is hard to find.
The anarchists have taken the tower
The reserves are insolvent
They flee, they do not see
The last bells have gone home
As I sat on the train pondering
I saw young adolescents, old people
Withering behind the music, books, gossips,
Skin, light, air and existence itself
I find myself asking
What in the world
Are we breathing for
In a world
Perfect in form
Yet decaying in matter
Now this is very sad,
Thus has my vision been in vain.