SPARROWS

I already know. They no longer seek nor invite you into the acid shower of love and friendships. The memories of the homely past have also become a shadow among the living creatures. At any time, the dead-unwitting can be trapped in the sediment of meaningless life, and the distorted Apple-cob handshakes, calculating promises are only good for someone to understand that mud-stamping is going on here on all levels.

Huge, aching blindness is a useless fate even for faces constantly wanting to ask questions. Unanswered, hopping, tripping among lofty wrecks, sham-prophets shining in short supply, the decaying city.

Pain, but also lazy indifference is squeezed out of the tired forehead. From down here it can be continued with difficulty, for he who willingly gives out his passion for Golgotha boldly finally collapses dead and white in some deserted street noise.

A resentful loud gasp continues to be heard as the late awakenings of this now wicked world show no mercy to anyone. Irredeemable clacks of hours and minutes of shame defiance-no one has ever made a secure living for themselves, nor a greedy career.

Bitter honey is shed from the spiritual stigma wound when spied through secretly taken naggers. The soul of many, who even sensed that, in exchange for cheap fees and annuities, they began to prosper outside the circle, while they did not count on anything else.

The big, smelly nothing, even a special pile of shit, opens its mouth, and if one could not have enough to fry, it immediately swallows it!