Studio

Entering this, dry grey alley,
All the sidesteps leading to,
Up into, straight to you
It's a glimpse, becoming you

Entering that,cold and mute,
dead rusty parts
Thoughts of here, evermore
More for us, more of us
More of you, pushing off
And slipping through

It's a place full of mist
My head spins,claims a list
Of all wanting,all demanding
Always restless,never standing
Black on eyes,white on findings

As the walls become my fate
Looking straight to my state
Still and stuck,on my mark
All the markings in my back

Raise the blade and deliver
Ain't my thoughts a true giver?
Ain't my act to react?
preaching on a silent pact?
This and that,I provoke my inner part,endless circles in the sand