The Door

Close the door and look away.

Let the footsteps of the past carry you to your former state.

No need to keep the memories.

You don't belong in my world

as I do not in yours.

I'm sorry but I'm not used to getting damaged

nor I shall ever be.

I was not made to be broken,

not in a world that decays by the second,

not where love hurts.

Here is where everything is perfect,

because true perfection lies on imperfection,

because there are no mistakes,

only knowledge in the form of experiance.

You are as frail as a rose.

Reach your beauty at its best,

your full potencial

and the countdown begins,

mortality of mind.

In your personal maze the end is the beginning,

you are circling infinately around nothing.

Its all empty, your life.

I could crush you under my strength.

But I didn't.

I chose to learn from you.

You taught me pain.

Now it will be as if you never met me,

as if you never seen,

your truth is but a lie.

That's all I really mean.

I''ll see you in another life.

Maybe...

In Distortion I Perish

A borrowed ego or a borrowed body?
Red or black the bets are set.
Tie them tight, it has been said...

"The moment they cherished and in the ashes of them a new world perished."
As if what happened was enough to protect the ones that chose to be lost.
Eyes reflecting lies laid on an infinate struggle, as if crawling through a flame,
to purify, to burn the unnesecities.
Those pests amongst the "people".

And god forbid me to say that i am tempted.
The shadow unleashed shall derive the power of creation,
for the acts and deeds depend on its form.
A valiant wisdom, an art of deception?

Attuned to the rhythm of a fluent projection
Who shall lead? Who shall leave?
"Thou hast seen, thou hast been"
Colours are made of colours
as people are made of sins
and sins are made of people,
manmade illusions to keep us spinning between the lines.
A spider that got caught up in the web of its neighbour
is indeed a sad momentum,
building up a continuation of the most bitter-painted truth.

Depictures life's blossom
What if dreams were not ciggarettes?
gradually turning into ash
piling up layer by layer.
"Enjoy" them while they lead you to a new decadence.

Then find the perfect urn for a life's memorial
and blow it all away when the time comes
if the time ever comes,
in this world freedom rarely lasts...

And I envy,
the gentle breeze of the wind
for it carries the ashes into the far away lands i've hoped for,
but im not allowed to...
I feel it, noone said that I had to understand it too.

And if i say i was never tempted to,
I would be a liar
So carry them away...
The places, and the roles of this play have been given.
After all what are we?
If I answer it would be an act of folly, a fools reply
and if i did not, a coward would I be called.
Heros are fools they say,
brainwashed puppets in the hands of masterminds.
All those fights for the ash,
of an anon's dream? - a piece of land.
Missing the breeze that melts and soothes the pain of existance.

Bend me into the given shape, if you can,
thinking does no good after all.
I could believe you if i chose to,
the art of deception...
It can hide true colours, can distort the picture
and in there I can blend in
Distort me...
A farewell to the wind, which i was not allowed to travel with...

For Arist

Prosefxisou ston theo tis siopis perpatontas sta vimata tis sofias ke tote tha vris ton krimmeno eafto.

Tragoudise me ta poulia gia na niosis ksana pos iparxis ke efxaristise tin fisi gia osa sou xarise, dika sou, monadika opos i idia sou i iparksi.

Xasou apo ton kosmo mono gia na anakalipsis ena kenourgio, pou epifilassi nea taksidia ke peripeties.

Kitakse to agnosto katamatta ke vres eki mesa ena meros pou mporis na anikis.

Tha se dexti me annixtes aggales to avrio, mono an to aggaliasis ke esi.

O dromos megalos ke se perimeni, ta monopatia omos ine dikes sou epiloges.

Ke na thimase, pote na min kitas piso sou, mono mprosta...

Min trexis, apolafse tin diadromi.



Farewell.