State Of Paranoia (Dream Of A Surrealist) Poem by Alexander Foald

Falling down to the ground, like a dead butterfly in an airless cage
Falling down to the ground, like a burnt cigarette of the dying old man
Fade to the shade of grey, inside of the mind of mechanical clock
Fade before bloom, the flowers of immaterialized children

Something before our eyes, bend like wind curving herself
It’s mending the broken mirror from where we saw the fate come
Different dreams in the back of everyone’s mind, a state of paranoia
Tangled in the past, now collide to each other and make new of a life

Falling down to the ground, my precious daughter of Venice
Falling down to the ground, aflame horns of the devil
Fade to the content of my heart, pretentious unimaginable love
Fade to the shade of the grey, the gracious malice of mine