Digesting the memory of time Pretending life is whole And still sublime Youth is diying to get defined New century's role is underlined In technological progress And mental degradation of the kind


Broken winged angels fly Until they fall down and die People carry their 'why?' Random thoughts defy What is considered a pure sky


Another two and a half hours Endless vanity and showers People building towers Why am I stuck, Without any given powers?


Betrayed By the society And the close ones Perhaps I am a mischief And perhaps  I've done no good in previous life too Perhaps this is the reason I suffer so much in this one. Karma, my friends, is indeed a naughty girl. 


Your skull is like a bowl You fill it with your thoughts While you fill the bowl with a white rice The scarcity of good thoughts Meaningless amount Compound like the stones In bags of the same aforementioned rice Why do you think so much? Don't blink! Tap upon a table, Make the noise your best advice.

What is love?

If not gentleness in her eyes? What is love, If not gentleness in her touch? What is love to her, If not roughness of your mind? If not manliness of your character? What is love at all, If you haven't been hurt before by it? Why is it good at all, If not to be more than one? More than just alone?

Being Supportive

Don't lose your ground Don't lose your crown Look around There is a better half  Of this town  Admit it, you like the other side Of Berlin wall you've built in your mind I guess we should learn to coexist Until the sun down


Don't be upset about not being happy It comes with time... Just empty your mind And let the needle guide you Towards your north After all that is compass You ask for a direction A gadget tested by millenias

Common Sense

In a sense we are all doomed To a degree of self understanding That our ancestors have reached We are here to prove  That their tradition can't be breached And I agree we owe them that The time only proves that leaves That grow on strong trees Owe their fible lives to strong roots


It's hard to impress An all seeing eye I do not regret but neither comply I want to live now Even though before I wanted to die Color of blood is red Like that of sunsetting sky