with quicksand and traps
in the terror of my mind
and on unsafe ground
where my soul slips
behind greedy clouds
where all thought
turns into scrap
where all words
are one too many
and mean nothing
my voice swallows itself
i wish i had a sword
which could kill
but nothing cannot be fought,
it will just destroy me
who is nothing
and all,
incarnated,
suspended in
the void
where i thirst for life.
only from far, so far
listening to my heart
i hear me cry,
instead of love
blood flows
out of me
and i am ashamed
to be a human,
a child, a man,
who lost the wings.
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