Walk that trail which lines the dark to step on shadow of grown trees nailed to the ground. The edge of cliff calls your name and primal life colors your veins black. Feel the blade, unearth the pocket and grip your will to shred your lips. Blood seeps broken lines of skin stained with a past.
Look down at the cascade of wooden trunks webbed with the maya of green. Leaves have been constricted to spears and pine cones sharpened with age. Your fall is inevitable. Hair flows against the dirty wind in every direction your happiness has run away from you. Take one step and the war begins. Heart and mind corrode your cells with the radiations of life. Take two steps and the cells get sliced in tearing death by the surgical weaponry of the pines.
Shallow whims of heart and submissive temperament of mind had crippled your being into a void. You win the battle at the first step. Fear of losing existence brought you back to exist. Chromosomes of this new being tags its label to 48. You are an orphan. Parented by no heart and mind but by a complete sense of the body and being.
You committed mistakes. You traded your senses for a sugarcoated life of the easy and pathetic. Self-complacent grease diminished your hunger for the unattainable. You traded the pulse of your veins for the closest rush of an apparent ecstasy. You traded time for healing sorrow. No more. You demolish what can be attained today. You attack what you had dreamed since your childhood. Heart and mind is stoppable. Body and being is unstoppable. You break the glass wall of your whims and rust ridden sorrows. There is no life. There is a being. You are that being.
Look closely at the eyes. Humans’, beasts’, or the ones you see at the mirror. Just stare at the building hollow in them. Solve that labyrinth. Within it there is freedom. Until you accept that freedom, you are a slave. Just like the billions who lived and died before you.
Look down at the cascade of wooden trunks webbed with the maya of green. Leaves have been constricted to spears and pine cones sharpened with age. Your fall is inevitable. Hair flows against the dirty wind in every direction your happiness has run away from you. Take one step and the war begins. Heart and mind corrode your cells with the radiations of life. Take two steps and the cells get sliced in tearing death by the surgical weaponry of the pines.
Shallow whims of heart and submissive temperament of mind had crippled your being into a void. You win the battle at the first step. Fear of losing existence brought you back to exist. Chromosomes of this new being tags its label to 48. You are an orphan. Parented by no heart and mind but by a complete sense of the body and being.
You committed mistakes. You traded your senses for a sugarcoated life of the easy and pathetic. Self-complacent grease diminished your hunger for the unattainable. You traded the pulse of your veins for the closest rush of an apparent ecstasy. You traded time for healing sorrow. No more. You demolish what can be attained today. You attack what you had dreamed since your childhood. Heart and mind is stoppable. Body and being is unstoppable. You break the glass wall of your whims and rust ridden sorrows. There is no life. There is a being. You are that being.
Look closely at the eyes. Humans’, beasts’, or the ones you see at the mirror. Just stare at the building hollow in them. Solve that labyrinth. Within it there is freedom. Until you accept that freedom, you are a slave. Just like the billions who lived and died before you.
