Aamupäivällä lupasin, että postailen tänne joitain englanninkielisiäkin raapustuksia. Tässä sitten muutama vähän vanhempi. Koitan keksiä niiden perään pari uutta, jos vaikka saisi inspistä. And as we are going to write some english poems, I find it kind of suitable to write in english too. So if you don't mind. I think I've been good at english, like always. Swedish and other languages are like hebrew to me, but english fits my tongue like a spoon in a well mushed potato. Perhaps not the best thing to compare at, but yeah who cares. These to-be-written poems or värssys whatever you like to call, are all a bit shadowy, dark and melancholic. I guess it was the thing when I wrote them. But yeah yeah now I have blabbered enough about english and all the useless stuff, so let's get on with it.

As I study these papers, it seems they have all been written on same day, and are kind of sequels to each other, so I will write them as one pötkö. Enjoy.

Lord of hatred, mistress of pain

You tangle the corpse,

desolate mans mind,

As you bring agony,

and memories wither away in time

Every man hates you,

one should care,

it's the Eve, and the shadows will take you there

You got slippy tongue,

as you pour these words,

is it safe, how you bear the devils worlds

Devils the worlds master,

Lord the harbringer,

- it's a cruel life boy

watch out for the trigger..

I disobey you,

this world is mine,

should build my own palace,

in the riches of time

Is time a moneywell,

a mine of gold?

Not even the slighest,

just a dream, as youth dies old...

Out of time you must jump,

to the moment, the movement must stop

When you are still,

it's harder to trip

easier to navigate, and use your witt

I never want the common life,

it is for dead people

They tend their gardens, mixed in memories

- Why should I ever step down from the adventures of time

It's not happening,

this is the fairytale of mine

You will never be happy, 

as long as that continues

Belive me dear friend,

that's oneway ticket down to hades

Alas, I must confront,

this great fear of mine,

to sink in the deep,

as wolves tear my clothes and have an eye for thine

I am nothing

Only a feeble whisper of wind,

stranded in the river of life

This shall be the day,

in which day ceased to exist into the night

AAAAaaand that was kind of story? Didn't even remember it was that long. I think I'll write the news poems in another article. Too much stuff here. Hope you liked it.

-julkaistu alunperin 12.10.2017-