I mean, I am feeling grateful,
Finished The Long Way Down—
The book, like an achievement,
And it doesn't achieve shit
In the real world, in any way.
Tomorrow could be hell,
I think I should stop
Thinking if there is tomorrow,
Which is just two hours away.
I am picking up ex libris
Like embracing my old-flame.
SS2 where the stove has been burning
To fry somebody else's breakfast,
For someone who couldn't sleep—
Who were in their winter phase
And for someone who was still
trying to balance the caffeine intake.
I must have missed my social-poker night,
To toast and to lose some laugh
But then i would reckon,
I'll miss my books very much.
Thursday, 27 March 2008
Tuesday, 25 March 2008
I wrote you a note, while listen to Tchaikovsky
While Nyx was in deep thought,
Through her exhausted drag.
Poised with wings, I kept the song unsung.
To tell, you are always on the list;
It would make you so proud –
"But who is Victor?" –I yelled at Latona.
All I have left to do, is to worship you,
bellowing down to earth–
Seeping your nectar.
Poised with wing, I hold your song unsung.