Mainstream Hell
I walk as the beauty comes,
And I search for words, draws, paintings, sculptures,
Simetry, numbers, tones and haus.
I´m looking for the rose.
And roses, even the most beautiful
Are common, ordinary,
Try to picture those whites and whithered flowers,
They dare to bloom in the way, sidewalk,
They´re almost human.
As I walk my feets tremble,
My rotting and hideous hoofs,
Assimetric pace, such daze,
Staring narcises, glaring clouds!
But somehow so confident,
Delivered to my doom, by any fate,
Blessed by the mirror, lack of youth,
But hungry of it.
A crowded bus pass through me,
They do not understand my speech,
It´s filled with too much joy and pleasure,
And fear alone is what they know,
My tongue it´s too wide,
Too Wilde,
Too bad it´s not wild enough,
Althought it´s ravenous,
As it remains angelical and serene,
Because hell it´s too mainstream.
