Coup de Self

Bullet out of the gun, the clock has shot the sweat, save yourself, redeem, fight yourself because you are the biggest threat, a comedy of circus, too short flight out of the box into the hall, bright billboards, short films, spilled out of hands, the golden ball.

Leisure and sports never go hand in hand, till the devil is in the stands, ignorance and the pretense of what affection is showered as love, cravings of the intelligent pacify the needs of the ignorant fool, move out of the shadows not try to hide the reality, and don’t drool.

Love hurts, that’s what they say, pain is just the onset of the war, raging is what beneath oneself is the energy of a newborn star, embalming the scenes and the panorama around the self in destruction, ask one where has this lead to and what is that dirty backyard construction.

The brute force within, the aftermath and capture of the feathers, orbiting forever the reality inside the brain and not the captivity of the lies, for what lies inside the mortal and the habits that are never justified, bound by the motionless swings of the time, outrun the insanity of Lovers.