poetry for a slaughtering tribe

последний всплеск перед отъездом на две недели.
посвящается некоему Rudy R. (хоть ему на это и наплевать).
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they sense the fear in motion
summoning it in time
in strict confidence
in the crowd of rampaging thoughts
they swim against the currents
stomping on friends and foes

in this very case
i become spastic in time and matter
banishing the day"s disdain
or disgrace
unless the united states of mind
are changed
for the better

i confess i do love this planet
for the everlasting moments
the plains of wasted green or soylent dreams
i admit i adore those lips
that ask for another kiss
in the faceless crowd
where the herd of souls
is longing for the eternal bliss

having the power and will to caress
among the sneaking fears of the others
in the whilrwind of ambient screams
"what was it ?"
"what of it ?"
i"m looking through the dark
those souls
lost in the mind of god
the battle angel is waiting
to harvest them on the run
now don"t look back in anger
you"re not the only one