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July 2nd, 2008
11:14 pm
The sun is replaced with a watchtower eye
& the clouds have been stained with an ominous dye,
Like the butcher has wiped off his knife on the sky.
The cold iron letters read "ARBEIT MACHT FREI"
& it may seem a lie but it’s hard to deny,
If your work is to try to forget how to cry
& your freiheit is found in a pit full of lye.
A lamb with no shepherd, a brook with no sea,
A story with no one to tell it but thee.
So tell me the moral, for time is not long,
& the world is a beast with a beautiful song.
no dena kāna. es jau teicu, man pa ilgiem laikiem gribas, kaut es spētu tā rakstīt; un varbūt arī nodziedāt, ar tādu pašu kontrolētu neprātu.
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Sviesta Ciba |