Noise Machines

Being in the endless

Stream of action, feelings

And desires

It is a never ending story

Of love and loss

No time for reflection

A monotonous noise

Without meaning

Involving as many as possible

As much as possible

Stealing time and life

Only the extremely narcissistic

Or the wise retreats in time

Things To Be Done

Whatever can be done

And how

I don’t know

Empty speeches

Will not change

Anything but

Create another

Great illusion

Time and time again

We relive and

Escape the fact

That action must

Be taken in the relevant task

Otherwise we will get very lost

Preparing The Battle

I have to stand my ground

Nervous full of fear

What am I?

Guilt, pain and deep

Anxiety that pulses through

The system

Still the sun shines through

The window

The Love That Never Was

Seasoned madness

In lonely places

That is hidden from

The public

Your madness

Is the only true guarantee

That we will never meet

And you will not even notice

What you missed

The Art of Being

The art of agreeing

With one self is only

Surpassed by the art

Of being completely

Paralyzed and indecisive

Forever and ever

When it is a pattern

Things are getting

Interesting it is a mod of life