The wise man is getting circled, owls, wolves and ravens are among, the tragedy is around and the forest feels the green screaming, while lodges carry nobody.
Corpses are lying still, otherwise the living sleep attached to their dreams.
One can be a universe, Where are the stars?!!!!
Knifes thrown down and bullets spread around, arrows catch their goal and someone’s bleeding bad in the back of a car.
Run and scream- said the knife.
The fork picks and picks, chooses or can’t chose, they aren’t there, they exist as a vehicle to men’s lust.
The spoon gives meanings and spreads the word when it must be spread, it’s full and empty, she chooses always.
Feeling tired and weak, the ancient one feels an extension of his body and sees that everything is in the right place without being.
As a matter of form, formless and disguise less, everything appears in its true form, a bowel, the knife, the fork and the spoon.
Sounds were being made, with instruments to feed, one can nourishes on sounds and communicate through higher spheres in the parade of the universe.
One is the universe; being a being, without being human.
Flourishes when it’s time for that and decays when there isn’t time.
It is replaced, choices are being made every second, while the owl cries.
Psychotherapy, lives in all things among rubber toys, plastic dolls left on the sea, where life gives them a new meaning; another purpose, another existence.
He climbs down and falls back, always climbing and falling, the stairs are made of glass, one is cut open, one is bleeding and in the leisure, one climbs again.
The green starts speaking, the animals speak and the tormented beings start to pass the doors, breaking windows in their way.
The sailor feels the power of the ocean and he loves it, the fisherman survives with a boat, a sink and a net, he tries to understand it, but the power is strong. Movements are made and in the end the story remains untold.
Psychotherapy, lives in all things among rubber toys, plastic dolls left on the sea, where life gives them a new meaning; another purpose, another existence.
He climbs down and falls back, always climbing and falling, the stairs are made of glass, one is cut open, one is bleeding and in the leisure, one climbs again.
The green starts speaking, the animals speak and the tormented beings start to pass the doors, breaking windows in their way.
The sailor feels the power of the ocean and he loves it, the fisherman survives with a boat, a sink and a net, he tries to understand it, but the power is strong. Movements are made and in the end the story remains untold.
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