Guillotine

Holy great guillotine, I gave you a part of me. Not my

head, not my chin. Holy great guillotine you ate almost

all my dreams. I’m condemned to lose something I cherish.

And to let it all go in a mutual contentment, watching

the floor getting closer to my face. And there has been

to trial, something to get what happens to me. Nothing

but silence. And to silence sign my end. Death to the

guillotine. We lose and share emptiness of all passions

and cares. In the end am I just allowed to breathe? Among

no head bodies, other no head bodies. On our necks a

better people would sail and they would have fun for

sure, and we would endure it without wanting to know

more. My end will be where it’s supposed to be. I know.