Artists without struggle, struggle with art
Artists without struggle, struggle with art
The flames shrank as he crawled aimlessly in the tunnels
The light ever fading
His breath now empty
Reading is nourishment for the brain
Nourishment for the beast within
Run when the beast is freed
For the story I’m reading
Has the key to my soul
The poem was originally written in Swedish and I debated whether I should post it here or not. Most of my readers are English speakers, but quite a few are actually Swedish. In the end, I decided to make a separate blog whenever I have the inclination to post something in Swedish: Legendernas Bok
There, I can see it. It’s so close.
The queen will be happy once I gather–
Oh no… what’s this? I can’t get through.
But I can see it, I can smell it. It’s right there!
So why then–
Wait… what’s that shadow?
It’s so hazy… what’s that sound?
Ugh… I need to get up
I said get up!
…tired
Maybe if I closed my eyes–
The ringing is gone now.
Maybe I should–
…
…
…
Burn, burn I say!
…End my torment
…Cleanse my sins
Soon there will be nothing left
Soon there will be no guilt
There will be no crime
And therefore… no victims
Gold, gold is the elixir of life
Gold is what keeps me asleep at night
– Shame the one who may wake me-
My breath may be that of smouldering death
But my heart still burns strong on top of your homes wrecked
It’s my gold…. Leave it be
In a fairy ring broken
Your dreams lie trapped
Go grabbed them if you can
You are welcome to try
But be warned if you do
Because at your wits end
You will find that you are not alone
In your mind’s game
The world is ripe
The gears are in bloom
My machines will kill you
and you are all doomed
… I’m sorry