Starting Point

There are many forms of madness

As well as a great variation of wisdom

We never know where to start

Confusion is the gift of the Creator

It is even harder to know where to stop

Maelstrom

There are limited choices

In the middle of a whirlpool

Moving the body

Losing direction

Getting dizzy

Incompetent

Lost

Any option to get out of here

Is good and wonderful

Still

Again and again

Trapped

Old Wisdom

My grandfather told me

Timing is everything

It almost never works

But it is a great idea

Like most other fantasies

It sounds right and simple

Just do not try to implement it

The great evil fire octopus

Will get you if you do

Labyrinth

In the old times

The maze was

believed to be important

For survival

Finding the way

Having a pagan meaning

Long forgotten

We still find them

Along our long

Coast on the way to

The cold north

Lamentations From The Coast

Feeling very lost

At the moment

Time flied away

And here I am

An old wrinkled man

Without future or past

Just an eternal now

A present path

Of decay and inhibitions

Until the sea carries me away

A Stench of Paradise

Just being here

Trapped on a small island

In the wast emptiness of the mind

Another slow day

In the summer

A day so still that we are

Creating conflicts as a pastime

Running around in our own mind

Tearing down Paradise