Wednesday Morning, 6:30 a.m..... what I've done.. oh,
WHY have I done it?......
leg heavy-bleeding, warm blood, for a freezing heart, I
could hear the echo
of a distant bell riding its sound over and over my
head, while the sand along
the pavement got red-coloured and my regrets steadily
were growing, me, only
me in the deserted, shocked-to-death village, me...
awaiting my turn to come,
before I could end roaming along a nameless road,
beggin' and bleeding, slowly
dying... I was to kiss death and asking for water, I
tried to borrow a lonely
child's impossibly genuine smile... it was nothing more
than a foolish lapse of
reason, for a fool sent to the Combo of the Disappeared..........
I robbed a bank, yesterday, and I robbed my very life,
today; I started
sweeping like a menacing snake through the dusty track,
while my irregular
breath was counterpointing, with deadly sound, a damn
My wounds were eating the few glimpses of faith left,
and swallowing my
corrupted but still flaming soul. I felt a raging crowd
whispering louder and
louder, getting closer to me, and crushing my broken
shoulders, a long stream
of blood was getting out of the Big Red-Bottomed
Saloon....... After a while,
I "crashed" into a nice, all-white-skirted
lady. She was blind although her
eyes looked inspired and deafeningly lightful, the kind
of light I had lost
many years ago. She had fire and passion, but did not
ask for compassion,
a slightly enigmatic expression for a second "stabbed"
my heart; I felt
roaring pain mixed with understated joy, love might be
void; she kept acting just like an old, smoothly insane
diva.... "Is she a revol-
ving spyral or a thundering hurricane very next-to-come
and kill me...?"...
A couple of minutes and I found myself in a cobwebbed
cage full of misery
and decadence, then... then a tight, warm embrace. She
kissed with involving,
dramatic scenical passion my wounded lips... She
"I can hear your fast-growing heartbeat and get
the smell of your blood
falling off your seriously injured leg... what happened
to you?... I guess
you are bound to vanish, what is not to vanish will be
your impossible crime...
Please, don't stare at my blindness or don't watch my
on your blessed lips.... my spirit is about to get
raped and murdered by the
Goddess Indifference... she already killed me, a long
time ago... now I've
forgotten, even if I will be disappearing through the
ashes of shot-dead
prisoners and fugitive outlaws....."
All of a sudden, I heard shot-guns over shot-guns
beating the temporary,
peaceful silence, the air seemed to be broken and the
decided it was time to break free... I had the weird,
of being part of an old-aged western-movie,
occasionally revisited and
turned into a frightful, unpredictable "noir-like-drama"
by a mad director
....... I was still standing on my feet watching the
blood coming out..........
My mind began to implode into fever and distorted
visions....... I was moving
...and not moving... it was me.... but not me........ I
desperately shook my
very last thoughts of rebellion and free-spirited
pretensions........ I could
only dream of... I had heavy loads of hate chasing me,
my sense of redemption
was keeping me alive and conscious..... No pity for the
getaway, one more
chance to a new, blistering, truculent massacre.....
....ALL DEAD... ALL DEAD... while the Central High
Street was still bleeding
and pouring its innocent souls, mixed with the outlaw's
....wifes and mothers were crying over their husbands
and sons' obscured
heads. Tears and blood, once more.
And for the next day to come, there we'll have new
sentences to declare,
but no more grief and sorrow to pour on our dear
innocence gone lost,
that kind of innocence maybe hidden beneath the child's
impossibly genuine smile.
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