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Train thoughts act III
Playing a slow Waltz
symphonies of red streams
solve the universal puzzles of life
till the classical
rejoices in the modern.
My soul is a boat
and this melody is my river.
Obsession at the rudder of my desires,
love is my wind,
infinite echoes are calling in the distance.
wanderer in this peaceful shade
that I call home.
Lost in this spiritual embryo
I talk to the stars
that I've painted with the dust
of what's left of my brain.
Train thoughts act II
Blood red ink
paints distracted swirls
on your nude skin.
hidden inside those blooms
till the conjuction with your essence.
Silky caresses of thoughts forms warm waves.
Dive inside this ocean
and prepare to reach the realm
in which you'll be the queen.
Train thoughts act I
This cold sun has nothing to give me today
busy ants all around
and a mental storm inside of me.
An empty bed
lies in this silence of steel
while hungry clouds
are waiting for the night feast.
You won't save me this time
you sailed away from this realm
and a long shadow has fallen on my heart.
I'll be the sentry of this place
waiting for the wind
to bring you here
in my memories.
Come close to me
or run away
close your eyes and open yourself
or be just cold as steel
this time won't matter
you'll hear the explosion
and the heat of my magmatic heart
will melt everything on its way
somebody have built me to kill children
destroy mountains, vaporize buildings
and such is my rage
I reprogrammed myself
something went wrong
and you're gone
consumed by love
Little Miss It“Do you enjoy her company?”
That, Avadaci concluded, had been the extent of his grandfather’s kindness. Thank the stars he had broken his neck after a failed attempt to ascend the castle staircase. Not that many were privy to this information. The official listing on the cause of death involved something along the lines of falling in battle after slaying at least a dozen demons, although this was treated with quite a bit of skepticism by the general populace. Yet, interestingly enough, a decent portion of the locals believed a tale about the cannibals of Unkhtom devouring him whole.
Not that Avadaci really cared how his grandfather had died. He was just glad he was dead. And if he was glad his grandfather had died, Avadaci wondered, why did he have to attend his funeral? In fact, the whole kingdom was glad his grandfather had died. Why did they have to attend the funeral?
“Oh Avad,” proclaimed his mother, “obv
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