Unsynchronised fable
is plastered on a foolish-looking table
Nomads come
nomads go
Black is now
the color of the whitest snow
Are we, really have to go?
Expansive nature
shrouded feature
Illuminated exposure
without maddening torture
Scarecrow is calling
Bare-footed angels are walking
when silence is with
no exceptional words talking
Stage is set
two opposites have finally met
is life itself a wandering death?
Simulated screams
faulted pulsating dreams
back alley transcribed
with no real Valley
Remote message
received and passed again from Comet Halley
Town is sleeping
when hidden words are meeting
The town is wildly awake
when reality has lost
her emerald-green shape
Song says: Killing in the Name
I say: where is your shame?
Arctic Circle and White Queen
are Dancing in between
like old lovers like newborn twins
They don’t say a word
the memory of blood
is the activating norm
The terminal point has no loins
life to life
death to death
Every morning has its,
own deserving Sunset
In Lucifers Court
One must be born
he will, never be part of the crucified capture
he will never suffer the Abrahamic dazzling rapture
The memory of blood was never cold
the memory of blood just decided to flow, more bold
the memory of blood is the true gold
the memory of blood speaks to every brave Nord
Right now, at this moment
when the life cycle
has turned into brief, degrading torment
Purest Rose
is the ray that will never froze
Purest Rose
It is the act of the most beautiful prose
Vortex born in vivid and life-giving osmose
Sometimes we grieve too much
sometimes our senses
are the Devil,
crying alone out of touch
Rasputin challenge
is Arthurian new triangulated balance
Out of sight
Out of mind
So many say
when they lose
their modern singular way
Lost cause
pause…
and think
where your living ship has to sink
when new reality will start to blink
Embrace the fight
don’t even flinch
On the open sea, many are lost
many have no words
submerged knight can not rise
without his sword
What will you do?
Wait aside
watch the Sun and Moon collide
Or follow the path of the whitest bride?
The future is in your hands
you must decide
Not Gods,
You are the one who chooses
before he looses
All.
‘I see a hall standing
More beautiful than the sun
Covered in gold
At Gimle:
It is there that the faithful
Troops shall live
And for eternity
Will rejoice in happiness.
When arrives from on high
At the last judgement
The powerful, the magnificent
He who governs everything.
He decides the fate of the combats
He appeases the quarrels
He decrees the eternal laws.’
If you want to support my artistic journey, here is the link:https://ko-fi.com/happyparrot
If you want to donate, in reality, you would be buying a portion of food for our parrot please use the link above…Thank You!
Like, share, or Subscribe!
Stay frosty!
TRUTH IS NOT A FICTION 
Leave a comment