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Sprung from the grave

           Outside the bunker it's hot. The heat found yet no home in the bunker. The heavy machine guns are greased and ready to nibble and bite whatever and wherever he points. To stay behind them gives you a sense of sureness. It's a sunny morning. Through the slits the grassy plain has an infinite look.           After the morning gathering, they're all waiting for the upcoming enemy offensive. Moral is high. Most of them have front line experience.           Several hours later the battle is at it's full. He shoots like crazy.           For one short moment he hears nothing, he doesn't exist. The bunker has been hit by a large shell and  collapsed. The munition that was stored underground ignites and explodes. He is propelled from the reinforced concrete grave in the direction of the advancing enemy troops. Some ...
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Eppur si muove

Reinvent, commute whatever comes to mind, It will still be bound by the laws entwined. Abnegate, disown everything in sight,  It will still exist in all of its might.  Trick yourself, believe you will change the fate, Counter all the voices that could make you wait.  No, it’s not pure logic that will guide your lane.  Contrary – the madness is what keeps you sane.

Counterfeit Lullaby

The downside of illegal dreams Is that if cought you do the time Not in the prison of the world But in the jail inside your mind And if you look to ease your soul These aren't the lines you shoud've read Because a warm and healthy sleep Is not for those who steal a dream

Backwards

I saw a man the other day, The oddest one I ever met. His eyes connected to a point, His face in smile of sour regret. He held a clock is his right hand And stared at it, but was away. Just as I took a closer look, I saw it ran the other way. Not to the right. Yes, to the left! A time-machine by all its means Trying to turn the hands of clocks, It was portraying our defeat.

Innuendo

It craves my skin and burns apart It tickles ashes through my heart Never too quite to abide Yet not so loud as to subside Througout the cracks it leaves a trail A geometry that will not fail To rumble voices in my head Always at night when warm in bed And there's no doctor that could tell What's the deep well in which i fell So all I do is hold on tight For all I have is a moschito bite