MW (24-07-1967 / waalwijk netherlands)


There at your isle of heaven
the dream of your heart,
remembered until seven
where it tore apart,
I live inside my dreams
with the Nibelungen
loud gesungen,
Lohengrin my sin
its' seams i assume
an unfitting costume
i suppose
a second skin
which terrorizes
my well-being
silently froze
but by sneezing
my nose i chose
to let go of this chain
and regain
-i repent
my sentiment-
did i miss
my refrain,
did i jump of that train
much to soon,
i take my soup
from silver-spoon
as well dose
my daily
by a flame,
what shame
such affliction;
''t wasn't care
my dear
I dare! '

Madrason 11-06-2014

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