Of Nameless Moons

What about the man on the moon?
He has no name.
Think about it.

He’ll never be more, yet never less
Than an allegory
Without a name.

We walk with him, drinking light for days,
Stumbling blindly over earth’s bleak crates
Straight into the ashes,
Seeing light in ashes.

Now nothing will ever be the same
We are the ones that have no name,
Damned, frowning, always the same
Shake the hand that has no name.

Throw your safety down the well
That has no name,
You won’t need it.

Walk with us in moonlit streets,
Deserted, empty,
Go lose it all.

Lose your track of time, waste your memory,
Concentrate and think of where you’d rather be,
A place without a name.
A world without a name.

Now nothing will ever be the same
We are the ones that have no name,
Damned, bleeding, always the same
Shake the hand that has no name.


The sun is writing poems into the ashes,
Using the moon for a pen this time,
He whining ‘bout his lost identity,
I never saw her writing down a name.

The moon is choking so hard on his own fate,
Using his silver hand this time,
You staring at your long lost name,
He just took it out of your mouth.
5.2.07 22:47
 


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