Curse

I had these dreams
things are not the way they seems

I am under the red sun and
I am pointing my head by the gun

Several people are laying
seems like they all are dying

First I feel so strong
but also everything is so wrong

suddenly I stumble and then I
crumble like a dry leaf down on earth
and I turn to the ash
before that I see a plane crash.

I wake up and I am holding
a gun under the red sun.



Poetry by Janne A Ryynänen
Read 224 times
Written on 2007-01-22 at 22:22

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