Land of the dead

careless lives burning time
on an endless cross road,
through the fire
painting holes
in the crevices of those souls.
along the dirt road
lies the paradice
of a lost winter rose,
frozen in time,
lost in life,
not knowing wheather to die or grow.
countless vibes,
shivering in the trees leaves,
waiting for the rain
to wail apon the land.
no begining never endng,
an abyss of whirling images
displayed in the raidiance of our struggles.
careless lives
burning time
on an endless cross road,
though the fire
painting holes
in the crevices of those souls.
the sun sets its glory
, and the moon shines its gold
upon the typhoon of miracles
to dawn on our new world.
still those souls
march scared
in the cavity of existance.





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