all the vultures here
are waiting for you
the hyenas there
are laughing at you
in this culture you
are lost without clues
like a sculpture you
stand out from the crews

scribbling gibberish
and scribbling it fast
it will soon all be
a part of the past
each and every single
moment consists
of some kindness or
some beating of fists
in this multitude
you´re lost without clues
who would walk a mile
in your worn out shoes?

you´re beholding
the immaculate view
holiness has made you
one of the few
it´s a gift
which has been handed to you
like a rescue in a town without clues

LARZ GUSTAFSSON January 23, 2008