A fresh breeze blowing down the street,
behind closed concrete walls –gifted with pleasantly flowing heat.
The mind paralyzed, in fire;
the heart liberated, discovered evidence – I am a liar.
Sadness, emptiness, darkness there as proof.
There is no purity under this roof.
A long way behind my back,
a wasted moment, nobody can bring it back.
A simple strategy, copy paste,
transformed into a useless scar, unknown taste.
Smooth glossy papers, attractive headlines, dead voices in campaigns,
charismatic frames holding gold in tight veins.
Magnetic movements absorbing everything around.
Automatic movements, signing a contract with everything around.
Pushing the mothers. Pushing the daughters. Step forward towards them.
Fathers, sisters lift up the gem.
A few steps leading to the lights of the city.
A few steps to prosperity.
Icons with bodies divided by lines, sharing a message: By following my rules,
you will receive the same fruits as have I received.
Icons with vibrant angels, sharing a message: By following my rules,
you will receive the same fruits as have I received.
Icons with full pockets, sharing a message: By following my rules,
you will receive the same fruits as have I received.
Icons..
Icons..
Icons..
Revealing the sweet pros,
hiding the bitter cons.
Rising upwards, looking down.
A lost crowd, voluntarily breaking the Lord’s command:
– in a loud crowd, an individualist cannot be found.
What’s the point of healing trees,
when there are bees.
Similar parts recognizable by name,
broken voices forming an inaccessible paradise,
defining rarity under a frame.
They, searching for meaning for meaning among us;
just wasted means, disappearing like singing gas.
Her heart cannot be healed by the same medicine my heart used.
His spark cannot be light by the same medicine my spark used.
Their darkness cannot be pushed back by the same medicine my darkness used.
Only pain, wrapped in emptiness.
Only visions radiating clarity from stillness.
Only a dying identity lost in an invisible city.
I lived too long with these feels,
I lost myself in falling tears.
Without courage to say no to those pills.
Now, with verses on my shoulders, I’m leaving the untouchable hills.
He. She. They. That. Us.
He. She. They. That. Us.
Outside shadows.
Non-empathic shadows.
They set the moves,
actions, sentences, moods, views.
A weak soul, easily affected by statues without a soul.
That has finished.
That has finished.
Only me.
Me.
Me.
My true self.
Two dots growing distant from distraction,
two holes forgetting about the promised satisfaction.
Liberated from the crowd,
because there, an individualist cannot be found.
Free from the need to follow,
because only there a divine display can be found, when the moon is yellow.
Hidden instruments gifted with the power to reassess.
Hidden swords gifted with the power to decide.
An abandoned shell at the bottom of the ocean,
nothing but isolation,
swimming, using my own compass,
far away from the shores of a united nation.