Life.

It burns, it stains, it bleeds, it creeps and let’s nobody see.
It cries, it lies, it tells me to be, it owes me, it destroys me.
The winds at night, the light at dawn, the rain fighting the sun,
the forsaken dream, the unfolded game that leads into the maze.

Where in? Where out? Where to ask? No answer in sight.
And nevertheless an abandoned organ plays a chord.
It sounds odd but yet amazing, blasting, it increases,
the tone, the force, the chord, the never ending song.

The challenge remains and the shadows arise.
It’s hope against fear, it’s hope through fear,
hoping nothing but killing the fear,
yet having certain doubts on the amount of tears.

Tears? What about thousands of those?
What about an ocean made of salty drops,
waving, fluctuating, maybe it’s joy, maybe it’s not
sometimes I drown, sometimes I just don’t

The rounded path of a perfect circle,
with a merciful beginning and a sure end,
full of misleading thoughts and winding ways,
of holes, fake thrones and deceiving threats

Symptoms of a moment, signs by the road,
sensations of a frozen future, of a dead end,
of cancellation and frustration, cold temptation
A final intuition? No fulfilling for this surviving motivation?

And yet I hear the song, I hear that odd chord,
The never ending music of the old organ, renewed
repeating key after key: there’s no limit for love,
there’s not a minimum chance of having it all lost.

A sort of teaching, like a tender smile of an angel,
that proves and shows that life is unlimited,
unrestricted, wild and worth of a million tries,
until the inner sun arises defeating all evil’s lies.

It’s life. It’s a certainty, it’s a chance for eternity,
it’s rough, it’s hard, sometimes a mistreatment.
It is that one place that I consider my perfect stage
for wonder and joy, for hope, love and that hug of yours. 

gegéka. 16/05/14