Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Kunst - Geld - Schönheit

By the time you read this, I would have wipe away my tears. My longing to become something not too clear in my mind, but forsaking my believe, I know it is truly a gift. A Tiger has come back from the dead, striped, ferocious, eating up a language and spiting out the truth

Like a breeze, my dream is to awaken in a time where the All Mighty may sacrifice one. Why Schiller continues to surprise us, I know that whatever is to come of this, I'll test myself for an everlasting peace. Lord hear my prayers, The Lord let me be not afraid. Son, listen, God, Fatherly Heaven above needs money, bring your baskets full of Geld.....

Self portrait; A man resisting once again, the power of God, Schiller is not a person but him, between his eyes, under his skin, strapped to his birth. Boy, oh sweet lover, I hate what I said to you, but it was true, you were afraid to believe. I got my money's worth. Schiller spoke his words. A bird cage, a carriage tramping over cobblestones, bleeding from his gut, faint, confused, ashamed of his last days on earth.

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