Poezja

1. Carnal Dream

(Music arrangement on souncloud.com / A.pietras982 - VII - F 4 - Carnal Dream)


I: I've came to the lowest of grounds
Just to tempt
Although words should be sharp
Athough I wondered how to express
There is but an emptyness inside
A body that is dwelled by a thought
Challengeing all that is to challenge
With no sence of deeper reason
In this formula I mean
I've seen many worlds and became empty

II: A letter has got a shape
Perhaps some meaning I have forgotten
But so far as I can't recognize my voice
And see only the easiest way to satisfy
To focus on something that is not the pain inside
But perhaps it is good - how can I know
Some say that there is only light
Though it blinds

There is sky benath and it is so low
There is an outer space but just desolated
I look among the people around
I wonder what they are
As far as I can understand a stone or a tree or a bug
But not a human
I can reach them but with my senses and confabulation
And I think that there is no one inside
The self is multiversal as I expirienced
It is a story enslaved in time - somehow
I have been a human for a time
Then I've became my moors
I've been a view

Once I thought that there is something to build
That there is something to conquer
That there is something to explore
But now I think that there is just an existence
The eternal crossroads unable to escape
The dreams that has gone blank and so untrue
A spark of consciousnes that travels from fingers to mouth
And some kind of wordless meaning on the edge of all perceptions
I can't say if it is not a hallucination
I try not to think too much about that
For it tortures me and baths me both in despair and disdain
For a lie

III: Is all I know a lie
Shouldn't everything be completely different
Or at least it could be so
I don't know why the world exists


2. The Heaviest of Wonderlands

(I shall also arrange something as I get more time for artistic stuff)


Couldn't say this Tomb has no charm
A craft of fine engineery and manpower
And that my cage is not made of materia
The sublte cold in touch and stories
Of prisoners - philosophers and murderers
I don't believe in ghosts but I can try to affirm
The holograms in my imagination
Songs about quark transition under what is seen
I can try to think that it is fine

I can try to think that I am a part of the race
That nobody knows where it ends and where it begins
I don't believe in fate but I can wonder if it is individual
Though I am just a kind of my own selve's priest
So useless as all the depths

I can wonder as the world is a Diamond
Through the works devided and roles
Someone is now old and dead
Perhaps I don't know something about him
Perhaps this consciousness now dead buries remembrance of Love
Perhaps he is an engineer
Perhaps he built my cage in this Dream

As I hear voices on the bazaar I can think of the race
That no one knows where it begins and where it ends
Perhaps I walk among saints
That's the trick I can make with my imagination
For it is so nice to affirm
As I can't do anything else
In this Tomb

A girl ashamed of her mortality