The Road to Nirvana

Like businessmen on their way to a funeral

We had our hands crossed on our laps

We had our lips zipped to a sulky slit

We had our wings clipped to our backs

I knew that the doom would be over soon

Like a mother I shielded your fate

I didn't want you to know my weakness

For it showed as we opened the gates

Like cowboys on the road to nirvana

We had false hopes inside of our shoes

We had love where our heads should've been

We had red hands and we had no excuse

As the gates opened I saw your face

Split like a clay mug constructed by a kid

The rays of sun clung to your eyelashes

The spit of the gods cleansed your eyelids

Like murderers we erased all we had seen

We had our hands crossed behind our backs

We had our lips pressed against each other

We had our wings folded in our laps

And our love was more futile than a clay mug

And our hope was an addictive, impotent drug

And our sense was forgotten on the side of the road

And our love remained though it should've been towed

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Olga's Poetry & Thoughts

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