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Artikel Gemeinschaften Wettbewerb Essay Multimedia Persönlich Gedicht Presse Prosa _QUOTE Drehbuch Spezial | ||||||
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agonia ![]()
■ Ich hörte es kommen... ![]()
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-07-13 | [Text in der Originalsprache: english] |
Unbreathing colours in the present somewhere's
Dismnesic an outline of the absurd 'gain pervious To other colours/steps of many blind gaits. Talking long ago, defining Crutches for the lame, rethinking My own pacing never. Smouldering. Died later. Couldn't know I'm still wasting a periodical eye. Why is that? Because it's not raining, I heard, But in fact, a crutch is aching my ribs Sustaining many crippled breaths. And I, Precisely I had to stumble upon it, And thick dust thus raised to my eyes - That is the reason I cry. Feel blind sometimes And hold my eyelids crushed, The smoke inside, And that is the reason I cry. May sigh wearily at dawn Unbreathing too many breaths In mouths wide-open for gaits blind and lame; I couldn't crush so out of pity recompose those crippled destinies And cry. Possibly hoping to drown them, Some say.
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