Wisdom is like the fruit of a tree
They must come to maturity
Picked too early and eaten
It will not become

Fear not to be the wise way
But it is wise to find
Otherwise the blossom will
Blow away in the wind

It bides his time and shows its fruit
In understated splendor
And does not participate in all the haste
To equal in wild chase

I would tell you of the wild hours of surrender
If you would enter my impetuous dream with me
Into my domain where nothing is kind or tender
And only passion and turbulence exists to be

I ran a sharp fingernail down your chest
You could scarce control the urge to grab me
Just pulled me ferocious against your breast
Tried to limit your craze to some degree

Ached for me to follow all the way through
Your control slipped with every brazen word
And by the time you whimpered and withdrew
You had my innards feverishly stirred

I would tell you of the wild hours of surrender
Of my undreamed sensual passion and secret yearning
But I would rather like to remain a pretender
‘Cause once I tell you, my dreams wouldn’t be returning

Today …
I will love exuberant
My eyes are shining clear
Nice things are happening
I don’t know how to fear

Tomorrow …
I urge my heart to restrain
The sun could be gone
I don’t hear what you say
I choose a path of dawn

Today …
I am a dreamer
I hear what the song tells
I fantasize of romance
I hear tunes of freedom and spells

Tomorrow …
The scars are back
I only comprehend goodbyes
My heart is bleeding
I sense lovers cries

Today …
My pride goes on the run
I know what all people say
The memories will remain
I am doing it my own way

Tomorrow …
The madness is overwhelming
I forget about starting anew
Devil and angel inter-flow
I forget about me and you

Today …
I feel there is nothing wrong
The whispers soothe my mind
I can slay all my demons
All is good and aligned

My feet are standing in a place
Where they don’t belong
Everything in my body says
It is just so wrong

Turn around, you need to go back
It’s not the right way
Remember the important things
You don’t want to stay

Don’t listen to a word they say
They don’t know the truth
Don’t ever stop and keep searching
For the dreams of youth

Knock, and it shall be opened unto you
Ask and you shall receive
Seek and you shall find
But …
On which door do you knock?
What do you ask?
What are you looking for?
Or …
On which are you focusing?
The positive or negative?
Obtaining or not?

The results will give you direction
The nature of your conviction
And remember, you’re really in a position
To create your own world

It’s your choice
only yours

When time passes by and you don’t know where you have been
You need to reflect of all the things you let within

It is the moment to consider your direction
The real purpose of your life and your true intention

To let go of the people who let you down and leave
To say soothing words of farewell and take time to grieve

This way you create space for ideas and a restart
To dream of and design your life as a work of art

Shake your sorrows and your pains and leave your gloom behind
Get yourself spiritual freedom and peace of mind

The world can run without you for a while, bask your life
Because all quarrel and troubles of mankind is rife

So to all of you I wish to share this prophecy
It is my solemn but valuable philosophy

We live in a world of abundance
But we simply do not want to share
Who knows there comes a difficult time
Where we require extensive care

The prospect that there is nothing left
Gives us a creepy and dreadful fright
We’re afraid of losing everything
We lost humanity out of sight

So we keep saying stay where you are
Do not leave your country or your home
The world isn’t a very nice place
It will be much safer not to roam

And every night on the evening news
We see your starvation and despair
And in our cosy and loving homes
We still wonder how much you can bear

I see the tears and the sunken cheeks
My heart is bleeding and rips apart
And with suffocation of my soul
I shamefully open up my heart

He didn’t know it at the time
His life existed in poverty and grime
The only way he could survive
Was at the age of thirty-five

To create a painting of a sulfur-colored sun
In an air of pure cobalt to show everyone
That he still could create an eternity
With the deafening silence of taciturnity

Just two years before his dying day
While enjoying a Beaujolais
He gave us a magnificent treasure
That centuries later we still have the pleasure

To experience the pain of the sunflowers
That he painted in the small hours
Of his ever-decreasing life
He finally quit the long-drawn strife

I hear the soughing of the tram over the rails
In the fast whiz I see a reflection mirrored
Of the comfortable pub along the canal
And the advertisement on the bulletin board

Bright neon lights and screaming colours fill the air
The rails shine with raindrops in unusual ways
And on the footpath that flows like a labyrinth
People follow each other in a polonaise

I step outside my box and search for perspectives
In the puddles I can see the abstract movement
And the symmetry of interesting angles
Capturing urban reflections on the pavement

What drives you again and again to stress
That turmoil in your soul
The answer is simple
You are no longer in control

Environment, your work, the others
They always get the blame
But really you have to look
At your own impatience in shame

By becoming not accepting
The world offering you dreams
Aim yourself at realisation
From that which is or seems

So through your own thinking
You make a repressed wildness for yourself
And every exclamation of protest resounds
In your spiritual depths in and of itself

So you try to spend less time
For energy with things that strife
To achieve some balance and peace
Instead of yearning smouldering your life