A vast heath, deprived of emotions,
Or thoughts whatsoever,
The black hued morning drowning into the night,
Would you get up to the battle of words,
Of character and receding hope
Beyond your window that filters the sunshine
touching your eyes and making you dream of mirages
Had you known of this masquerade, you would have put your mask on,
With the smile that doesn't cease,
And kisses that don't feel against the plasticity of your heart,
But here you are, sunken in the comforts of your inaction,
Feeling and falling,
Days are passing and being swept away like memory-leaves,
And words swiveling around your head,
them, you can't speak,
The obstinacy of your mind, driving your body,
Is too hard to handle now, but this is a control game,
You win, you live; you lose, you die while living,
And thus, let's try with frayed hope,
Get up and open the curtains wide,
look beyond the glass that reflects your state of mind,
My dear child,
Will your moment of epiphany arrive sooner than the end?
