The trance
in sadness
the ambiguity
in silence
it may come
as dissent
as it sounds.
the celebration
of a beginning,
futile…
the ambience
never ends
and that’s beautiful,
togetherness…
the times of serious art.
Acceptance and remembrance
of the bonfire
inside everyone…
You go to bed with flesh,
I go to bed with flesh
and a hope of something more.
These crackers,
men with polished shoes,
women with intricate scarfs,
I fear them,
and their rushes
of meaningless liquors.
Only sell out to the never ending madness of a pure juggler…
Juggling… juggling…
a year has been juggled,
Don’t ask me why I detest the megalomania of a gathering of assholes in redundant eves.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Google.

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