shell shock
no way it is true
i can't be there
no it was long ago
it is still
the noises
they hit like shells
the people
they all walk like there are no sounds
like they can't smell
the air filled with the stench
of a thousand corpses
where are they
i can't see
the dead that i smell
i close
shut out every one
they don't mean shit
they all would be dead
if it were war
like it is
like it was
like it will be
like inside me
frightend and alert i walk
the streets filled with pedestrians
like i don't see them
cause they were there
cowarding inside
while i had to fight
they chose to hide
while they cried at scenes of death
i created and defeated
myself and the enemy
for i am
the only enemy
i had to kill
for the cowards
behind their tv
behind their desks
behind the lies
they hid their guilt
in me
in the night
i can't sleep
i see the flashes
of cars in the street
but they're not cars
they're muzzle flashes
and the tires
they are like grinding tracks
a little spider in the corner
tip toes through the room
when all else is silent
the spider becomes
a silent reminder
of the harsh world
where every sound
is one of danger
closing my eyes
all i see is the blood
all there is
is missery
over stimulated i wake up
swimming in bed
and realizing the war is over
and the day has begun
and the war just will start
when there is none
slightly paranoid
walking to the market
people look at me
like as if i am with gun
and i feel
my hand drawing
to the empty space
with my finger
near the trigger
that is not there
all is hostile again
and i shiver
as i search for bread
destroy my delusion
as the war should be dead
and yet
is there a glimps
of the older lady
that reminds me
of a woman
that tried to kill me
with nothing more than her looks
the hollow eyes
and i stare
prepare
with out any thought
pull the imaginairy trigger
and see
the blood splatter
near the bread
and i wish
i was dead
killed
by her
who's lost
her husband
by my
hand
i can't be there
no it was long ago
it is still
the noises
they hit like shells
the people
they all walk like there are no sounds
like they can't smell
the air filled with the stench
of a thousand corpses
where are they
i can't see
the dead that i smell
i close
shut out every one
they don't mean shit
they all would be dead
if it were war
like it is
like it was
like it will be
like inside me
frightend and alert i walk
the streets filled with pedestrians
like i don't see them
cause they were there
cowarding inside
while i had to fight
they chose to hide
while they cried at scenes of death
i created and defeated
myself and the enemy
for i am
the only enemy
i had to kill
for the cowards
behind their tv
behind their desks
behind the lies
they hid their guilt
in me
in the night
i can't sleep
i see the flashes
of cars in the street
but they're not cars
they're muzzle flashes
and the tires
they are like grinding tracks
a little spider in the corner
tip toes through the room
when all else is silent
the spider becomes
a silent reminder
of the harsh world
where every sound
is one of danger
closing my eyes
all i see is the blood
all there is
is missery
over stimulated i wake up
swimming in bed
and realizing the war is over
and the day has begun
and the war just will start
when there is none
slightly paranoid
walking to the market
people look at me
like as if i am with gun
and i feel
my hand drawing
to the empty space
with my finger
near the trigger
that is not there
all is hostile again
and i shiver
as i search for bread
destroy my delusion
as the war should be dead
and yet
is there a glimps
of the older lady
that reminds me
of a woman
that tried to kill me
with nothing more than her looks
the hollow eyes
and i stare
prepare
with out any thought
pull the imaginairy trigger
and see
the blood splatter
near the bread
and i wish
i was dead
killed
by her
who's lost
her husband
by my
hand
10 okt 2004 - bewerkt op 01 mrt 2007
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