Music rendering
tiny sparks
of faith,
many mornings
on the radio
where I keep falling
for the thought
on those fractions
to meet into a day with you
I’ll make it happen
for as I despise injustice
and been hurt and insulted
by those calling themselves
prophets and guidance
So don’t tell me what is best
Don’t you dare to ask me
to sit in my porch
and wait for death
I will die, yes
but not before having
the greatest feast
and burn into his abyss,
one, many times
Should I find desert or emptiness?
I’d take the chance
Why should I remain intact
while the others celebrate
against my urge?
I will have him, I insist
And he’ll have me.
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