Birds In Row Guillotine
Holy great guillotine, I gave you a part of me. Not my
head, not my chin. Holy great guillotine you ate almost
all my dreams. I’m condemned to lose something I cherish.
And to let it all go in a mutual contentment, watching
the floor getting closer to my face. And there has been
to trial, something to get what happens to me. Nothing
but silence. And to silence sign my end. Death to the
guillotine. We lose and share emptiness of all passions
and cares. In the end am I just allowed to breathe? Among
no head bodies, other no head bodies. On our necks a
better people would sail and they would have fun for
sure, and we would endure it without wanting to know
more. My end will be where it’s supposed to be. I know.
