Sep 24, 2006

poetry



the lie was the weapon and the plot was empty, darkness was the dictator


blind from flashy windows

they would peer into

the shadows went on by


the city woke in grey

and pale pastel colours

a beam of light arose

from containers made of steel


the masses, covered in shadows they were

the most concrete of work

they took for home

and when there was a moment of unrest

they did not know what to light it for

and if there had ever been a difference

it was lost by now


houses from milky glass

and the light shining through them

like they would not dare to exist

but could break the light all the same

as it shone through


home was a place for the night only

and some didn´t even have to

alter location to change

work” for “home”


the city stands in flames

the icy mountains all roll in

...and then the day broke in


(14.Mai 2006)

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