O Polemistis Ki O Iereas Ο Πολεμιστής Κι Ο Ιερέας Ήταν πολεμιστής, αλλά μετά από εκείνη την ημέρα δεν είχε αγγίξει το σπαθί του. Του είχαν πει ότι μετά το βουνό υπήρχε μια εκκλησία και ένας ιερέας που ίσως τον β
A walk in the snowGentle snow falls...On eyelashesand thick, browncoats -slippingand slidingalong...Old dog dreamsof puppywinters -running, falling!No worrieshere!I feel youngenoughfor the bothof us...Cover upthe citygrungewith purity -Joyfulto the eyes.This tiredworldlooksnew again!
prelude to the open roadI want to walk out of classand never stop, watchingmy hometown sweepbehind me like glass shardsunder a carpet, and I wouldnot miss a single brick of it.(When has this town been home?Every building is four walls,and they too shall topple:I can see the ruins clearly.)Once I started,I wouldn’t be able to stopbecause permanence meansstanding in cement and smilingat its steadiness and stability.I do not want to wake up one day,see my feet stuck in stone,and realize it is too late for meto do all of the things I wanted to do,so I will never stop moving.I am too aware of my pulseand the second handtick ticking in circles,and with all these green arrows,why shouldn’t I go?Who is to say that I am not readybut myself and myself alone?Who is to say that I will regret itbut myself and myself alone?Who is to say I shouldn’t gobut myself and myself alone?Afoot and lighthearted,I take to the open road,myself and myself alone.
Millions of years in the makingDinosaur bones burn bright,blackened breath clouding the air.We search for the stars we erasedeyes like burning coals.
you are not real lifeyou don't do this sort of thing.so when you did, your heart didn't flutter at the thought,it leapt to a place you've not been.you've not seen,you've not gone with you.and compulsively, you run your handover the spot where you pressedyour cheek against that morning.wanting your imprint where it laid,this is a story of what could have been and this is deja vu,toro y moi become oneand you are bullheaded.causers of this,you are a son of venusnot of taurus descentand you're not surewhat it is you have fordecember women.sagittarius mutablenot mute-ablealthough you are muteand this is mootdespite cardinalstubbornnessand carnal desire.shoot the scalesin your favorbecause you arefalling into somethingyou have never known. you are not one for benefits,friend, you are >and blind eye < second-person
atlas(t)he says his name before he goes to bedso that he doesn't forget it, lets it hang in the airand makes sure it stays 'til morning.when he was a kid they called him fledgebecause he sat on top of trees like he was an eagle.now they call him jim because his breath is rankand his wallet is full of (wisdom) teeth.he doesnt like the spring because it remindshim that his bed needs to get fixed, there's an ache in his back that won't leave and he got it fromthree years of no hugs and too many weights to carry.when he was fourteen he met someone and that person was beautiful,like gold but not like a california rush. gold like the one thatcuts you and makes you bleed but you still keep it becauseit's precious and will only leave if you give it away or lose it.it's the kind of gold you keep hidden under the floorboardsso that it can't get stolen away. but he didn't realize thatgold was not human and before the thought evenpopped up he was back to broke at twen