the foggy head
oh head, my head. how heavy you are
inside are rocks, sometimes formt to a mountain unaible to climb or to push aside,
weight with no use as to stay where i am,
but thoughts should be free
an example for everything dense to be lose
thoughts are shapes for my heart to express.
giving form to all formless, with it`s need to be seen.
i rest in restlessness and i am restless when i rest.
oh head, my head. i must confess,
that you seem so useless, when you aren`t at your best
the struggle you cause with the will i perceive,
is nothing to work with as long as i breathe
i merely exist in this state, far away from living.
and hope you one day can freely admit,
that your guess of life was no more than shit.
so let go of the rein and have trust in what is,
what unfolds for us is a perfectly fit,
for everyone.
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