Anatomy of death

You'll  be nothing more than a sniper

!n a world of poets ,my  son...

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In the dark echo of silence 

where one awakens 

from a post mortem dream ...

A lizard that has shed its scales ,

hides to avoid being killed 

by the midday sun ...

 Amid the ruins of a life that was once beautiful

nothing awaits you but punishment ...

A  bad booze beckons you 

with a sneer of contempt ,

taking you aboard the drunken ship

drifting through the gaping bellies ,

 fading voice whispering : 

'' Why are you forsaken me  ?  ''

There is nothing to cry about what has been...

and regret what never was ...

  We are merely travelers who cannot turn back ,

even we have taken the wrong  past ...

  the heroes fell for the country 

are statistics for eternity ...

  In this organized chaos ,

the corpses drift off to sleep peacefully 

in the sweet rotten scent of grandma's jam ...

The highway to hell takes a detour 

through the dark shame of the moon ...

And where there are no more blank pages 

to tarnish with  remorses ,

madness drops a red ink with no farewell...

 That's how you become a cloud killer .

The anatomy of death  inspires unsettling  desires...