Solche

Agoraphobia

Rarely, a vast field has been tilled without the will to be used,
everything gets hollow in too much space but there’s no space for things that please< /br> nor do they hardly stay for that one moment that offers you no peace. < /br> Maybe< /br> Friday’s not a holiday and Free is that which dislikes each and everything< /br> Limping, stinking, frozen to death, La Grande Armée returns< /br> from all those years having been themselves - gone bizarre - over.< /br> Maybe.< /br> Nothing remains, but avoiding divisive questions< /br> whether ‘tis nobler to be prey for shooting < /br> or to organise your pursuit of your life’s conclusion - everything, everything is in vain< /br> when they say:< /br> Fear eats Freedom, nothing’s good enough, a small head, a big world< /br> Fear eats Freedom, more and more, bulging dreams and still an empty space< /br> Fear eats freedom, Fear eats...Life and is this living’s worth?< /br> The vast field has no paths in it as yet, where to go, with the mind becoming lazy< /br> like some cold lizard that won’t slither but just wait< /br> for the first rays of sun. < /br> Hit between the eyes and nothing without pain. < /br> Maybe.< /br> Maybe distance is just pretence for not having to look too far across the country,< /br> full of cracking necks that didn’t see that coming either< /br> and the house aflame, that was never part of the scheme, but maybe it helps< /br> to throw away things out-of-scheme, sharpening your eyes and axe, < /br> for all of this to stay the way it was, and it will stay forever as it is - when they say:< /br> Fear eats Freedom, nothing’s good enough, a small head, a big world< /br> Fear eats Freedom, more and more, bulging dreams and still an empty space< /br>