CULT
Bending limbs for angelic obsessions. Chanting through all channels to reach magnetic states of mind and unity.
No dualism wanted when seeking converters. Escalating commotion and holy contours.
Call it admiration if you wish
but I´ve never managed to inhabit
such a face of peace
and even less
such a mind
The pieces seem to fit
like lithospheric plates
resting against each others edges
No smile
No frown
No eyes
Even turned away
at ease
My plates are forced cracks
The eruption awaits
Calm is close, but too far
She hides underneath
pushes trough inconveniently
Bitchy manners
Twitchy expressions
Nervous cheeks
Bite marks on lips
Eyes overwhelmed
longing for sleep
I´m getting closer to the state
But close
is barely visible
A new love
A sorrow
A great loss
An entire country away
(I'll bend my head I'll kneel I'll worship if i must)
The life in that facial atmosphere
is of no worldly concern
I'll bend my head
I'll kneel
I'll even worship
(I´ll worship if i must)
I'll form a cult
(I'll bend my head I'll kneel I'll worship if i must)