Satellites and Lifeboats

Hey now, hey now
Open your eyes girl, the storm is gone
The truth, we don't believe in it, today
Let's just not stare at ancient gods' eyes, tonight.

Kiss me, kiss me
Now it's my turn
Life's too short to scream and shout
So just let me burn bright.

Flashes of my wildest dreams, streams of blood
And the skeptic's sword, cracked ice
The veins of you and I, like giant trees
Their veins are our might.

Gliding like a satellite, in the broken night
Your love is like newspapers piled up high
Into the monumental sky, limp and dry
And the stacks so high, the sky is safe and tight.

Wake up, wake up now
Sleeping only leads to more and more nightmares
Snap out of it
You know everything's gonna be allright!

Flashes of my wildest dreams, streams of blood
And the skeptic's sword, cracked ice
The veins of you and I, like giant trees
Their veins are our might.

Send out your lifeboats
And be my satellite,
This time it's you
Let's search the stars tonight.

Send out your lifeboats
And be my satellite,
This time it's you
Let's search the stars tonight.

This one's for you, Apa :)

Rain/Regret

Looking out the door, the rain pours over the mourners
Parading around the grave of sad relations
And a little bit of cookie corners.

No body turns, and yearns for
The sleep that won't ever come
Burning in the waters, the bright lights of gold lust.
And the love, unjust.

Lonely is the sky, the open window lets the rain in
And the winds from whimsy nightmares
Lights up the submarine candles.

The crippled angels of some Atlantis
And the broken lyres fly between our bodies
Budding baby blooms sing
In the shady choirs of dusty wings.

Lover, it's never over,
My kingdom for a kiss to the dead
My warmth for all that I said
My soul for the frail dreams I made.
Oh lover, it's never over.

Err, not exactly my regular super-awesome-psychedelic-garbage. If the words don't fit in, it ain't my fault, it's the goddamn brainsuckers.

Aftermath

          The sky was clearing up, blue, with tinges of grey. It would rain, probably. An aeroplane went off, outsiders going back to safety, going back to their wombs. The streets were now visible, tattered, ragged. A single boot, military maybe, was standing at the middle of the road, like a sentry. A pair of glasses, the skeleton of a half burnt SUV, few TVsets scattered here and there, a torn national flag, A few broken movie cameras, hundreds and thousands of stones, big, small, and bullet pellets. And blood. Here, and there. Dry, and wet. Some of it has lost its brightness, its meaning. The others still looked like scars on the face of the Earth, not to be erased soon. He looked around, shaking his head. Five days of demonstrations, and then one evening of military marches, and it's over. And all of this mess that's left, now he has to clear all of this. All this blood, bullet, and evidences, he, a single man has to clear up, with one mighty broom. The government must be a fool, can't they clear up all of this with their tanks, and machineguns?
           It starts raining. Cool, moist rain. The natural cleansing agent. Now she'll wash away all this dirt, all these stains, and all this blood. But will she be able to take away the memories of those, who are still alive? He doesn't think so. These stains are here to stay. And so are these people. He turns around, his work here, for today, is over. For now, it is over.

To the people of the ongoing Egypt Revolution, and for the commemoration of 20 years of Tiananmen Square protests.