Die blaue
Dear Reader,
Tonight I have plenty of beer and I am listening to some great music
so I can write, although its been stressful and moody for me
last days...there is an anger that is like a well with infinite depth...
it roars inside of me
cannot handle unfairness greatly...
it turns into words destructive and hurtful
so if that is the mood I am in
I hide into the depths of Kraken poetry
like I am reflecting my soul to you from multiple reflections
which in the end turns into a blob of weird rhyming words
just like hidden spell passed from a enigma device
so you got to read some weird shit I got to relieve
and cum off the anger into words....
reader today I cried
as I listened to "Voodoo Child"
weird....
I felt relieved and I felt the inner strength...
after all when you say your goodbyes to things that are dear to you
they don't all of a sudden vanish from your life
they dissapear little by little...
like a giant puzzle loosing its piece bit by bit
that's life you can't keep giving to situations which does not feed you...
so reader...I can write a short story maybe tonight
it would be delivered but don't know at what time
depends on how the night proceed, if you are awake
you can read it...
my face is full of stories
fyi I did not cut my beard
I am a bear with beard and an ear
my hair also grown a lot
not as long as I was young
back than it was up to my arse
you need a long hair for a good old headbang...
Gongs sang the Enlil's hall of king
There flaps the tattoos of the wind
Lust hide shun heard sin
Dim light shadows on nude carcass
Gongs of shy foul, nye choice is lead
Die blaue, unsung my song ass tears bears
King H. Ironson
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