13 September 2012
When the preasures in the bottle
Push you to the pavement
The pebbles begin to rumble
and fly around your head
They form a little black halo
An angel, without wings
who is tied down to the train tracks
as the loud whistle screams
The ropes turn into rattle snakes
That make your weak limbs freeze
till you become an iceicle
that can no longer breathe
And your million pieces scatter
As the train hits your face
and you become a million stars
that fly out into space
A million swirling balls of gas
That seem to have it together
They seem to have it all together
Up there
They Seem To • Opuss № I