1. |
The Key
01:51
|
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successive internal experiences control a lift
that moves along a vertical projection
of color palette
from the point of radiant happiness
to the spot of infinite sorrow
and vice versa
but under the long oppression
the engine stalled
among the shades of black
|
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2. |
Spatial
00:57
|
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my past leads me into oblivion
i will never come back to you
my memory is a fucking black hole
|
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3. |
Dried Ink Drawing
01:30
|
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dried ink on the dusty desk
empty despair page
slowly decomposing paper
and faded cover
unwritten manuscript
of my sad novel
only drawing
raugh drawing
drawing
dried ink drawing
remains
|
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4. |
The Trail
09:49
|
|||
dead pines
slanting poles
a serene squeak
in the winter
in the backwoods
breeze dispels
white dust
on the fields
at dusk
i go by the wrong path
along the road of contempt
...
i ask my self to take it for granted
when the frost pervades my weak legs
in a search of a trail
that leads me to sunny meadow
sowing with love
i'm lost among the white thickets
in a snowy pit
while a chilling howl
forсed me to go further
...
step
lame step
through the snowdrifts and windbreaks
i wander until my limbs become numb
and fall on rusty rails
i beholding oncoming spotlight
it brings me the rest
|
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