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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • EXPANDED LIFETIME


    Doubt lurks behind Time in an infected, fear-sly school, the last hope behind a gray toothless tooth, because the syrupy reality pinged from the cards of daydreams is often, stubbornly deceptive.

    Self-delusion has become a pious offense, if only unknown loneliness can be a person's only companion. Balance can only rarely unfold, like a palm. Even the semblance of survivability could have turned into a cheaply inflated, false password.

    How dead-ended were all the yew-flowered hopes. The total lack of your measured human face is always reflected in your everyday life. With fragmentary articulations, the past testifies and answers at the same time. If you do something wrong, he scolds you and warns you. You couldn't be a diamond knockback for a long time, neither in flesh nor in cells.

    Time is simultaneously registered to the nervous self. Space and memory break down into unlearnable reflex movements. They were all hurt by their previous form as well, they were further wounded by the Being, which you could have thought was Whole!

    You could neither reconcile yourself nor push for separate peace compromises. You listen with your ears to the humming waves of ancient seas, as waves and foam crash against the hardened stone bodies of rocks; in your sleep that has become shoreless, you continue to burn, annihilate, consume your pitiful self.

    The restless soul in you is not quieted by its murmuring voice. You could never be part of a sharing, encouraging grace. Your poor pathetic life could be taken away, but it is almost impossible to add to it: there is no match for your stubborn stubbornness, because no one can be selfish enough, and even the rules fall into separate categories against you. "You are turning into a slowly dissipating white gloom and a myth!"

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