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ΦΥΛΕΣ ΤΩΝ ΖΩΔΙΩΝ
Self-war
A desk-dead pose and an apparition
standing over my head
Scribbled emotion by a hand made for massacre
Whispers sent unsaid
Wave your hand,the one shining like alabaster
It's all set up,by coral intuition

Then you point at me
with a finger bent by randomness
with this finger that you cut me
a bystander of happiness
yeah,that's me
dramatised entropy
misplaced calligraphy 
and the rest is distortion

Pathetic apathy from this web-tangled sun
and the bludgeoning truth
excavates
elevates symbols
aggravates the perjury
i'm not there to listen

Have you ashamed enough of you?
Have you denounced love from your heart?
I should have called it a truce
but I was in the middle of a waras always
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