When
world becomes too small
And
time is too confining
I
find an oven for my sadness
An
asylum for peace
I
hang my dreams naked
From
my indifferent ceiling
And
shoot the voice in my head
I
find a river bed for my sleep
Or
my last beaten drink
Yet
at times
Accidentally
Before
I find all this
I
manage to write my last note
To be delivered posthumously
To be delivered posthumously