How it is!
A group of lights gives us the sense of what another group of lights looks like.
The shape of one decides how it should look the shape of two,
And three, never has a place in a place for two!
How indistinguishable are the thoughts that surround our thoughts,
from our own thoughts.
Born from One.
Born into two.
Born to make three!
And fight all our life to hide the One who made the ones who made the three,
And there doesn’t seem to exist a certain line that decides how it should be.
A single human can breathe twice as much air as a group of people in a whole lifetime could.
And in a lifetime–no!
In two lifetimes, that group could never take the courage to breath the air that it belongs to them-
as it rightfully should.
And what it is- and how it is;
And how it goes- and what it goes;
As the life spear goes through the chest of the mortal as he prays for life- while life it’s what it’s killing his soul…
He still goes, as he goes
Deep, and deeper into the arms of the unknown,
Humming and whistling, dancing and singing
As the noose of death prepares to feast in his soul
And he goes, as he goes
Towards the arms of uncertainty, without knowing-
Without wanting to know, afraid and shivering… blindfold.