Monday, 16 July 2012

Confession of a roomophobic

This feeling is dangerous. No, I don't wanna go home. Anywhere will do, but not home.

I am drowning in this sea of human existence.... This sardine-packed space.

Everything is easily obtained
World pendulum swings
A light switched on the sound
At the distance of the shot
count is meaningless
What truth does not slip out of hands
And not break an endless circle

Out of range we have not identified
Out of range air we breathe
Out of range consciously
Out of range, we
Out of range, we
Out of range

No comments:

Post a Comment