Mad Dog


Inside of me there’s a mad dog who pulls, bites and clings.

he leads me in the fog, where fear and lust are his water springs.

With such sharp teeth, compassion he has none,

for him everything is imperfect, unsteady, undone.

What is lost and far at his eyes seems to shine,

what is here and now is neglected, it’s a dime.

A weird glance it’s enough to hit his nerve,

all is a threat to the phantom treasure he preserves.

How tiring days are, carrying inside such a fierce beast,

constantly lacking and asking and never quiet, nor at peace.

I want to win back my freedom, on this I’m so keen.

I want to wash you away, my original sin.


One comment

  1. Pingback: So I went out last night.. | Pensieri Fuori Forma

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