As Time Goes On

As time goes on
the bloodstains on the tile floor
become permanent and lose color,
the eagles screech no longer
battles the deformed clouds,
the cries of newborns are
drowned out by the rustle of the city,
the hopeless rays of levitation
drip from decade old satellites.
And upon all the medals of peace
there grows a flower of hatred,
as time goes on,
without old lovers,
without mothers or fathers,
without money or hope,
without dreams or seclusion,
without images of heaven,
as time goes on
with the dust of the desert
swimming through the lungs
of half dead children.

As time goes on
through mostly deserted isles of desolation,
through broken cities that echo with the sounds of tortured voices,
through cut veins,
through diminishing hair,
through hearts which puke,
through brains that cry,
through souls that dance on ashes,
through spines that break
and eyes that give up,
the taxis pick up more and more people taking them to the underground
cities of drunken starvation
throwing them into rooms of art that paint the essance of old rooms
and waves of music that punish you with the taste of old lips and soft bodies.

Time goes on,
and stranded stories
filled with tender chemicals
no longer bring excitement,
and nothing stands
in the way of sensitive shadows
or transcendental fishes that swim in the depths of submissive thoughts
and all the things which once were born from the sunny blood of demons
now run at the sight of danger,
time goes on
and the sounds of nature
fade into the blankness
of a multicolored abyss,
all I see now is a smudged layer of life which never begins.