All the pictures

There was a Devil in the cave,
under the waters discovered,
black and white, wings covered.
He was my Lord,I was his slave.

Wise men they were who stood around,
when my body levitated above
the ground,
hopeless, like I didn't own myself.
unknown, like I didn't meet myself.

And when they brought the mirror,
I saw his tongue out, he had laugh
like a madman in the bloody rain,
until he realised there is a chain

around his neck.

When it rains

there is a beauty in the rain:
God cries his own sins
maybe tomorrow,
he can come clean
we can come clean

and nature will strike us

There is a beauty in growing
- every little piece of our organism
orgasm in the universe
and eternity reminds us

how much time we have left.

Not much beauty left

There is not much beauty left
darkness is leaking from the ground
Land of the last warriors,
their hearts are their swords.

What has to be done to break the spell ?

Witches of this land are hidden
under the monuments and haze unknown ,
sneaks into the air with the strange magic,
we will never know, but we can feel.

There is not much beauty left in this world,
the one we have is our own,
she's been stolen from what we've seen
in our mother's eyes...

I am your child

What lasts only, eternal light?

I am tired of living,
and that was only half of it.
Things we have seen, not yet dark
as they will come,
as they will appear
if our mind will betray us

I am tired of the image
in the mirror,
the one that doesn't belong inside,
strange nature of the other,
the one that comes from the same
blood line

I am tired of missing wings,
when they spread and the yellow lights
explode in the forehead,
surround it like a crown
there I am queen to myself
and carry the candle light with grace

I am tired of being wrong and right
twist the tongue when heart breaks inside
and brings one on the other side of the river Styx

carry me,
heal me,
I am your child.

Addiction is bad. We can make a difference together.

Have you ever been addicted to something or someone ?
Then you know what I mean. Is hard to stop it, and is hard not to loose.

If any of us would think, this is not about him or her, they would be wrong.

But maybe we have still friends, family, still ear to hear us .
There are people who lost everything. We see them on the street, sometimes
we give them a cup of tea, or a penny which they spend for stress relief :
tobacco, alcohol...that's an easy act as we are passing by.

However some of them are heading to talk to people, who don't give them money.

They give them back their dignity. They teach them how to cook, paint, trust again.

To give a penny is easy. However to remind someone his own dignity is hard job to do.

Let's support these people, who remain us of humanity.
Many small acts can save someone's life and dignity. Make a difference now.

https://www.justgiving.com/martina-danielova/

Sometimes the Sun

When the reality sunk into a dream
your name was written in the steam
and around were unknown crowds
smell of your body is smell of the clouds.

Someone cleaned the worms and clams
while I draw in the sand - diagrams
blessed in eternity
blessed in sanity

you're not that kind of love
crying on the tree
you smile before
I count to three

flying above the candle
like a guard of the flame
like a sun that comes the same
in eyes of chosen ones

you don't eat shadows...

I loved you first

They say"be careful what you wish for"

What have I whispered to the trees?
If not the sound of your name,
into the life of leaves, nest of bees,
back then I was the one to blame..

Thus I have regained dignity, grace,
your cycle ended in the woodland green,
old me you raised, with broken face
no longer exposed is to be seen.

Your old sins, knives, and scalp
-all is forgiven in this new land,
my mask was burned,
buried in the ground.