Perceived geomagnetic reversals

maybe the world is already flipped TW: dark thoughts

Ohne*
nichts, es ist alles für nichts
nicht frei, nicht kostenlos
aber umsonst; bedeutungslos

lieblich, es ist alles für Liebe
Liebe, geh nicht weit weg
aber weit ist die einzige Richtung

ängstlich, es ist alles für die Angst
die Angst verschlingt alles
aber die Angst ist nicht stark genug
nicht ist stärker, und liebe, als die Angst

aber den ganzen Welt wartet für das
Angst beherrscht uns
ohne wahre Liebe, wir bleiben nichts
wo bekommt mann wahre Liebe?

nür bei dem Allmächtigen
denn er ist, die wahre Liebe


anger?
They’ve stolen your voice
Ripped your fate to shreds
Torn all your stories
Fed them to the dogs
Left you with nothing
Nothing to be mad at
But the very thing that haunts
You
You can still sing
But can never spell
It wasn’t criminal
To write what haunts
You
But that has been stolen too
They see your heart
Inspect it with a scope
No one should be this close
To what haunts
You
You’ll never get it back
It’s gone, with the dust
The tape is unsealed
And your mind is the same
You’ll never discover what haunts:
You
It was you

What is that letter?
I don’t recall
The silken, soft sheets
That smothered me as I slept
Their deceptively scintillative scent
Drawing me closer and closer to an end
If I knew, If I felt
An observation would corrupt it all
If I saw, if I was,
I’d be nothing in or out or from,
Because when twelve years pass,
The siren still sings
Its slippery snake charmed song
Smeared with sly skill
And finally revealed
To none
And same, to all

Take note:
Written in the margins
was the truest thought of all
though no one knew the author
and the print was very small

it would have changed the world,
were it not crumpled to a ball
and tossed into the refuse
that sat waiting down the hall

some subscribe to philosophy,
ceaselessly pleading ignorance,
while others blame the puppeteers,
who promise blind deliverance

but few survey the trivial,
wasting time on grandiose,
they'll miss the revolutionary
unless they look up-close

Marginal
will it fit on
these small lines?
the founds of many
lack space for
reception
last resorts are
used too often
because of darkness
that is prescribed
too little room
is left for healing
the hospital is
even out of beds
so the patients
are imprisoned
in their own art
and packaged
in their very skin
how else
should they be
expected to breathe
than breaking
through their
flesh
so they don't
run out of space

The shared
receiving news
of metal and wood
brings to mind
the confluence
of bad and good
greeted with the
fare of grief
and bereavement
petals are crushed
to dust on the
pavement
the only hope to
rephrase the end
is that both
life and death
are shared,
meant to lend
but those who
fall into their
fears
have been spared
the length
of years
if they were
among the shared

*This poem is in German. I am learning German, so not fluent, please excuse the incomplete grammar or ideas.