Tired eyes - Hieronymus Bosch

Walking through the streets plexus

The air smells like plethoric fantasies

Esplanades are littered with debris

Streets are filled with eclectic melodies

Looking forward, moving straight ahead

Old diary pages in hand

Moving silent through the city of mind

That shows its dirty seamy side

There is something stronger than him…

The only thing that keeps him going

Is the fact that he could stop someday

Turn these hateful streets to ruins

Now he sees his only way

Keeping the silence

Thinking aloud

Multiform thoughts

Like furious crowd

No changes

In distand perspective

To destroy all around

It is only objective

Poet is in the gripe

Of the pages

Dancers are trapped

In the rib cages

Broken strings

Sound like desperate cries

And city stares into his tired eyes…

There is something stronger than him…