Door to Wonderland

Rusty nob of palisander door, pushed by a shaky hand. 

What will Alice find this morning in the wonderland? 

Perhaps a quote from a mistreated professor will turn her small

Or cake with a hidden dagger blade ripped her flesh, grow tall

Nurse doll dressed by doctors, with smiley grinning fangs

Maybe a dark black bubble where air burns small girly lungs

The Queen of Hearts scares you not... 

Emptiness does, the vast nothing that sits on your neck, blocking your breath, 

heck! Alice! Handle the shock with some grace

Not bareback in a cornfield counting raindrops on your face! 

One, two, three, four count to ten to million if you must

Grind pills to dust, swallow, and comply

Dreams so high then turned to needles slowly fading with your memories, inked under your skin

They win, they always fucking win. 

Riped blue dress on a girl named Alice, soaked in the lake of a lonely voice

Speaking of ending marching dead rabbits. 

Shoot? It's your choice

Every day starts the same, nob that turns the side

I am done being blue dress Alice, I want to run and hide...

Recepie for disaster

Cup of Words and distance
Litter of pain
Mixed to the game of hide and seek
Pinch of insecurities
Add hands that paint air art

Soak the sheets by salinated drops
Wipe it with tissue paper
Overload your brain with desperation
And let it set for hours till ready
When darkness forms, she'll consume it all... 

Flute master

Tune of flute and marching shadow, 
City waiting for its cleanse. 
Infestation of poor judgement
lowering stone wall defence. 
Song master ask nothing more
maybe coin? Or sheetless bed...
Everything must be at sleep, 
when he's working, as he said.

All is down, oh all, but not
little soul in pink short gown
looking for her midnight milk, 
now is marching down the town
Pinky toes stamp bloody road
Thousands feets in black parade, 
marching behind tune of flute
forming deadly moonlight shade. 

In the march of creepy crawlers 
flute master is but a sling,
tool of magic, trance and work
Binding requests like a string. 

Shore is close, oh close your eyes!! 

Ribon binding black hair back
feet are moving towards sea... 
Rats and roaches drowning life 
in cold waves, and so is thy

Morning bringing streets fest free
Empty glass stands next to bed
but there is no one there to sleep
She lies under waters breath 
People gathered to moarn loss
anger, fire rising in. 
Shimmering swords, scythes and knives
To punish traitor to erase sin. 

Masses cringing, twisted limbs 
How do we survive this terror
Whole city is on the shore 
Regretting this fatal error

Flutemans song is in the air
No one voice screams in despair

Tool of faith, the one who kill
Leading parade down the hill

One two, one two, left and right 
Desolation, deadly sight

When you choose to threat him fair
Flute master will give you air

When you choose to betray master
You will wish to die now faster

Listen, there for what he said
And stay at night in your bed

Invite

Painter brings life to sun ray's, 
morning dews. 
Sirens sings
to lost pirates with eye patch and 
smell of brew. 
Poet leaks his letter
river of papers swallow it all. 

Wonderland of own creation, 
simple yet unknown 
clapping hands with sharp nails
Twisted limbs of my past
wrapped around the neck. 

Gardens of hope and lust 
body turning to dust. 
Noises of lovely duty
screamin pictures of beauty
opening door to shard of eyes. 
Selfish invite? Sacrifice? 

There is no one so close to the fire (only you). 
Blue and green flames stripped of desire
Purple shirt on the floor silently fades
with arms spread wide, opening gates

Come in