It's hard to do it,
To hide here,
Below the surface,
Yet it is calming.

Why won't you?
Why can't you?
Why not me?
Can you see me?
Like one of you for once.

I'm sick of it,
Yet here I am,
Hiding again,
Under a shell.

©Rasmus Lönfeldt 2010

I could see it,
See it coming,
The punch,
A punch avoided,
Avoided in the last second.

Another one comes,
To quick to avoid,
Hits hard.

I can feel,
How my inside burst,
How my yaw disconnects.

Yet they come,
More and more,
No end,
The next above the eye.

The swollen feeling,
My sight diminishes,
One eye left,
To duck out,
The rest.

Another one comes,
The quickness,
Ducked out,
But with a quick turn,
It hits anyway.

Once again,
To the yaw,
The other side,
Teeth sent flying.

This is the punches,
Punches of old,
Punches of new,
Punches yet to come.

©Rasmus Lönfeldt

I hang to you,
Han with a steady grip,
Never to let go,
Never to loose anyone again.

You're all I have left,
Left here in this world,
You still hang onto,
Han onto me aswell.

I will see you grow,
Grow larger,
Grow to a woman,
Grow to finally hang onto someone else.

Hang to someone else,
Hang but never loose,
Loose the grip,
The grip of us.

We will be there,
There where you need,
Need us the most,
Most through hard times.

I'm your father,
I will see you grow,
Grow out of my grip,
Grow to finally live your own life.

©Rasmus Lönfeldt

This time,
A dark time,
A vast dark place,
The isolation of loneliness.

Once I've walked,
Walked through,
Through this dank cave,
This cave of Solitude.

I have,
Have the urge,
Urge to return,
To this dark place of hunger.

Hunger for you,
Hunger for anyone,
Hunger for notice,
Hunger for help,
Hunger for kinship.

This place looks,
Looks like something of old,
Old but yet new,
New to theese feelings.

I am here,
Back in this dank,
Back in this dark,
Back in this cave of solitude,
Yet I feel relieved.

©Rasmus Lönfeldt

Emotion is dead,
Dead to soon be revived,
Revived to make me feel,
Feel to be able to be loved.

I get the emotion,
Emotion that tells me it,
It the feeling,
The love pumps away.

Pump,
Pumps,
Fills my heart,
Makes the veins boil,
Boil with emotion.

The heat is steaming,
Steaming but decreasing,
Decreasing to soon dry,
Dry the veins out,
Thus Emotion is dead yet again!

©Rasmus Lönfeldt

A new beginning,
Beginning of a new era,
An era about a new people,
New people yet from the old times.

They lived,
Lived and fought,
Fought for water and food,
Fought to survive.

The old times is ending,
Ending to a new beginning,
A new beginning of hope.
A hope to be more than a few to survive.

Survival for the strongest,
Strongest protects the weak,
Weak survive through the help of other,
Others trade for survival.

Survival for the fittest,
Survival of how you make it.
Survival is the tool to make a new world.
A new world for the new beginning.

©Rasmus Lönfeldt

I ask of you one thing,
One thing only,
Only that thing,
But will you do it?

There's nothing to it now,
Now that,
That it has passed by now.

What if,
If you get this,
This one shot,
A shot to change it.

Would you take it?
Change everything,
Make it the way you want?

What would it be?
What did happen?
Can you change it?
Does it really mean that much?

I'd say,
"I'll bury myself",
"Alive",
"And come back",
"Back when it's all gone",
"Theese tormenting feelings",
"Feelings of love",
"Feelings of hate",
"Feelings of my own insecurity".

©Rasmus Lönfeldt