Liberty

My heart speaks in my mind that it is often unclear for the soul 

 but my head does not hear my heart becomes a bigamist 

 my heart was torn by my head was still weak 

 My head told him, and now here you are useless 

 my heart has lost his mind I think it should be tried 

 Love Lost my head, closed mouth, says hate 

 Love never fails to tell him pull its channels 

my head is still stuck in the Trojan 

 Sometimes it would be wise, but I can not do 

  my eyes would get involved either light 

  then infinitely slowly my heart and my head begins anew 

 but hate the song demonic croak my heart no longer knows where to go 

Love is in my head I'm here no matter how far you will take 

 and if you hear me reminded of my heart to you, then my hands are on land 

  

 from too much I do not know who they are, but love orphans 

 False statements are made all uncertain then comes silence 

 For some barbarities without adequately violence 

and now the head and heart is crying from morning until night there is nothing left 

life of deception on the sheets do remain a few good tacticians 

  

 which for centuries has taken the head and my heart to a doll made of wax 

 the cross hair as any fruit and I swear my soul crit 

Love becomes so low that it does not promise anything, and then my heart and head 

 suddenly hold hands and do not want to hear that the word love (LOVE) 

  

 but already knows love is too fragile to have lost the duel, but will never be for sale 

 It took my eyes that he understood when I said that you hear and understand 

 I remembered them in those dark years 

or cockroaches say love is from the future 

and still babies are like night book Mein Kampf 

and I swear that's true, as the dawn and the day I saw him all the time 

rats are not dead yet gloomy croak lullabies 

  

  

  

 certainly in the shadow of steam but still disgusting 

  

  

 Yesterday is the past is not true, but the Nazis 

  

  

 and always smile without you I say 

  

  Today's dictators have a form of nonsense in the light of the failure 

  

freedom that carries us all directions without any real issue of not knowing the exact propriety 

  

 those who are to the point 

  

 Be good you are, for you I stir 

  

 and my only mistress I call freedom 

  

  

  

name does not limit, which is responsible 

  

  

  

  a world that is dying due to lack of stability of your 

  

 heart and mind 

  

 fear of emptiness are complicated ..

Elisabeth Vaury