Pains of a Violin

When you look at the clock, you see the empty hour and

You raise your eyes to re-enter into reality.

You fight to survive. There is great tension in there and

Electric currents fall towards burning poles of ice, and

falls the history of your drunken knowledges.

You dodge it, you run with snail steps,

You watch how blue plasma bursts

Come out from velvet pages.

You look around, it smells like greedyness and it hurts

and with a married song, you look

at visions and halucinations that come onto the screen.

You grab the smoke from the other head of the pole, 

Then you take your violin and you start to play

A Song of joy blended with a song of sorrow.