Don't Run From Hurting Kind, ljóð frá 23. ágúst 2023.

Good to feel it, from the inner will,

fields were green but crying,

heading for the hill,

hiing...

Saying hi to someone,

say it all the time.

They are going thirsty,

there I lost the dime.

Lonesome in that light,

like the beer is turning me away.

Not so pointless night,

nuts are bound to lose the brighter day.

 

Want to love her, ways are going black,

worry must I, losing,

chasing chunks and sack,

chosing.

Sometimes she is kinder,

shame, not in the past.

Confused... must I mind her?

Man, she's changing fast.

Rather hit it, home,

have some faith and try it better there.

Nagging like a gnome,

needs are bigger, kinder thorougfare...

 

Slaves are dragging chains and telling truths

from turncoats, and acting funny,

smiling as it sooths,

sunny...

So much sadness rolling,

she's not asking why.

Striving and I'm strolling,

stronger then, but try...

Someone good or sad,

say it, I don't run from hurting kind.

We are born so bad,

better that the inner soul we'll find.