Melt over projections

there's a tiger
on the wall
thin and weak
who doesn't speak
to me
'cause i don't know how
to rhyme as William Blake

his shadow died
under the tree
whose lonely leaves
have been drained by the wind
'cause i don't know how
to rhyme as William Blake

and all my prophecies failed
and my god fell into
a vertigo winter
below the snow
of night forests
cause i don't know how
to rhyme as Willian Blake

and here i stand, with no rhyme
and these dungeons on the inside
yelling with emptinesses
i could never drown with
tequila shots
cause Frida taught them
how to swim

and in my heart there is
a few more birds
not only blue ones
that collide against each other
and hurt me with its dagger wings

here inside
heaven and hell got married
and divorced
falling into a cliff
filled with hungry clouds

and so, i weep
in mouring
like bukowski
but he doesn't weep
do you?