Victor dos Anjos

Victor dos Anjos

under the moon
he was wondering
“Where are my witnesses?”
“Where are my witnesses?”
maybe the streets had seen
but no one was speaking
so he was wondering
“Where are my witnesses?”
“Where are my witnesses?”.
there was blood on his eyes
marks in his arms
he wanted to scream
he wanted to die
she was killing him
they were killing him
if he dreamt of revenge
in the same energy
the streets would scream
“There's a monster here!”
“There's a monster here!”
the same quiet streets
when they saw his blood leave.
falling like a leaf
shattering like porcelain
enemies around him
smiles in the photographs.
he was lost
he needed help
he needed to flee
his witnesses were in hell
no true connections there
only blood’s bonds
under the moon
he was thinking
“it’s enough for society.”
“but this common idea is wrong!”.
no safe place to escape
it was not his responsibility
he was running under the rain
trying to find some peace
his essence was broken
it was a curse
their acts, their words
she laughed while injuring him
he wanted revenge
he had one dream.
falling like a leaf
shattering like porcelain
enemies around him
smiles in the photographs.
she stole his money
she stole his time
his excitement with life
and they watched it
their silence symbolised
they had agreed with it.
“there’s love!”, they said
“is it love?”, he thought
alone with his feelings
they tried to destroy
he still had visions
his perspectives had been molested
he still had aspirations
even with bad facts.
revenge was dancing
your heart was broken
monsters were smiling
eating his soul.
under the moon
he was running in the field
asking himself
“God, what did I do to deserve it?”
“God, please, help me!”
running, running, running
he was at the same point
like a pet with a strap
running in circles.
he was worried
he loved them
but this love died
they were the why
no shyness to kill
they justified
every shot fired at him
he was a human
but not to them
an object, in their minds.
revenge was dancing
your heart was broken
monsters were smiling
eating his soul.
the morning was so close
predators would wake up
he was on target
he was exhausted
he was guilty
his sin was thinking
think about his life
think about his dreams.
he didn’t know a way
a road to freedom
he also wanted revenge
“they would call me a monster!”
“they would fuck more my existence!”
there was fire inside
and it devoured an orchard
much money was wasted
“Sorry, trees!”
“But they were fucked!”
animal fire, no control
they lost, they cried
he smiled on the new road
he was far, he was free
he would build a place to live.
“Where is that guy?”
“Where is that guy?”
“I guess he died in the flames!”
“He was strange, and substitutable… anyway!”