Wednesday, 22 September 2010


I lay there on the bed
The covers warm from my heat, my radiation
Coming from the body
From my thoughts
Filling the abyss
As a ringing is heard
Piercing eternity
I hear strange things
During the night
If I go to sleep
After the doors of beloved are closed
It's not an echo
But something
As if I were
The one who calls
Awaiting for an answer
As the mosquito bites
Taking the question from my lips
The sin, the grief
Of too many hours sleep
I hear two voices
One left
One right
Loud and clear
About death and moon
Syrup and sugar
Green and black
Two things which come and go
Which never cross
Eachothers paths
Like the hiss himself
Both low and strong
The ringing stops
The voices never heard
The mosquito full.


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