Pride is simple,

Pain is humiliating,

Nothing is safe,

Nor is death,

But ask yourself time and again,

Is is all worth?



Dying skies

Torn by reality,

Where am I most of the time?

Stupid day dreamer!

Sky can never be wrong,

Nor can the ocean be less bold,

Do you believe the the sky is the floor?

Or your head is out of order.

Dreamer please stay,

Some of us need a bed to lay,

Norhing of chance can it be,

Protected by consequences,

All we can see.


In sickness and in health

We die in every moment,

We die with our people,

Our race,

Gone by the snap his finger,

Hold on to something that will die,

Everlasting life?

Is far more less than what we really deserve,

The entire goal is to be loved,

Only to know what we’ve done,

Will make us less of a human,

Draw us a spear of life,

Cut us free,

Until the day,

We can all see.



Island cast away mind

Out from four sides,

Fear of inside is released,

Now what?

They say dreamers only can see this life,

Imagine what damage it can offer,

What can you have that I cannot take?

Dehydration of salty seas,

Or fish full enough to feed me,

You take the stone out of the water,

But what chance do you think,

The water will take that stone back,

Like our lives,

We wish to be downplayed,

Yet again,

If only we aren’t cast away.


None too old

Shy to share,

Soul to bare,

Love to swear,

All is off the see,

Man aren’t we all to be,

What we aren’t meant to see,

Care less what you think,

Its all in a matter of a drink,

Die first to freedom,

Sell you soul for wisdom,

Cost of living is getting high,

Do you ever think you will live in the sky?


Fate or madness

Its been said,

I rather live till I’m dead,

Grown to be a victim of a curse,

Until I memorize a thousand verse,

Tell me if I go against the grain,

Would people believe me or go insane,

I only ask to live and be true to me own,

But then I here I am not here all alone,

I ask of you the will,

Because I know this is not freewill.


In this life

Every second counts,

Lives at steak,

Mother cries,

Brother dies,

Hands of who?

I often think,

If everyday it is worth the drink,

In this what it worth,

A love under the cresent moon someday,

Or nothin the you can offer,

That can be satisfying enough.