Often it
happens
Standing at
the crossroad
I wonder
which way to take
When each
path has its own virtues and vices
Hidden behind the veil of hushed secrecy
Half-listening to their propaganda, I search a place
Hidden behind the veil of hushed secrecy
Half-listening to their propaganda, I search a place
which marks;
End of
reasons and beginning of rainbows,
Free from;
Dogmas and
self-deceptions
Gliding like a aimless cloud in the claimless horizon
keep exchanging parts of me for shades of lightness
I seek a place
keep exchanging parts of me for shades of lightness
I seek a place
Where
parallel lines do not hesitate to meet
My own
little corner in this maze
All the while,
I keep humming the little tune
Of summer tranquillity
and vanished dreams
Not thinking
much
Feels like
to be a Neanderthal among Cro-magnons
Often a realisation of unbearable lightness of being
