the rain was pouring

drop and drip

while i am sitting on the tip

who am i

i cannot see

had the mountain drowned in sea?

my hands are working in a bizar automat

while trying to save my life

to be saved from whom? from what?

where`s the captain of that boat

Noah save us,pray to god

Jona will not be thrown into deeps

he is our brother

same flesh of us and thee


those pouring voices make me pee

and thus

my little stream of yearn

becomes a river

and all the bad guys start to quiver

i shell throw my vengens upon you, sinners

with great waves of amonia

fire balls and lightning

and stupid clownic jugling

twirling balls flying in the air

dizzies,all of them will stare

but never could they guess

the real colour of these spheres

in this endless cycle they are trapped

prisoners of their own lusts

and i

i only wrote a song without a soul

with no beauty and no bole

a poem

with rows

t h a t    r h y m e .