Dedicated to some of you, not all (of you). One should never strive to an indigestion.
Thought.
An unannounced
thunderstorm
as a dash
of sun
in the
darkest of the night.
Thát
unexpected!
Delusions?
Or not?
World-weariness
served
on a dinner
plate at breakfast
and again
at lunch and
when you
suspect to get
it again on
the appropriate time
you are vainly
trying to eat soup
out of a
black hole.
One wants
to be kind and tender;
extreme endearment
in a hatred
landscape
as if dying means bursting
the blue
sky.
Look into
the deep of mirroring water
with moonlight
and find your soul as dark
as your thoughts.
No more, balance
between sunny landscapes
and, gray penciled
skies,
Anxiously
looking hands
and a
fearfully thinking
mind
in search for
charcoal.
Colors stop
to be colors without light.
Thoughts
are on halt without oxygen.
Minds
shrink in absence of love.
Warmth and
cold are suddenly without temperature.
And
if, if
suddenly?
