What no one will remember
(Part xL7)
A trickle of sky. July 11. 2013.
Burn to crumbs
to infernal to love to
agony to evaporation
to rebirth to a thousand human
screams to another
to another vision
to another of all possible worlds
burn with anger
dare to bring collapse
collective shield of cowardice
be alone to be silent
to restart to reformulate
to negate all to remake all
from alas to alas
perish world by world
planet after planet
sun to sun
ignite! ignite!
ignoble race, ignite!
to hate to love again
to die to be reborn
ignite immortal missioners
to purge heights and abysses
unite in the fire
ignite in invisible apotheosis
from plight to undreamt of
life… begin!
It seems to be I am locked inside this excessive silence. That while I look up into the hazy azure of the sky or into the windy skies of night I discover an impenetrable void, a silence that cannot be breached, a solitude that is here to stay. My arms plead with desperation for a sign, my ears are on a pilgrimage in search of a sacred word – a confirmation that life can be trusted. A revelation or miracle that can transform these wild gyrations of nonsense into a lively and trustworthy universe. Long tunnels of agony and atrophy seem to be the destiny of those that aspire to awaken and revive human life from its muddled lethargy. But being trapped inside an inescapable chasm, I have only the ignoble expanse of space to address and all of creation turns its back on me and answers back in SILENCE. I am not insightful enough to interpret my own frustrations, I cannot tell if it is a general trend in this new age or if I stand alone in this inexplicable confusion. Furthermore, the only remedy comes in strings of lyrical eruptions that at first sight seem vague and meaningless, but are in fact projections of the real ambiguity and hollowness that resides deep within. It is unnecessary to find coherence when one is no longer servant to the tyrant of reason, it is superfluous to propound theories when the intellect is too weak to grasp reality. So, the image is inevitable: floating in cold nothingness, silent solitude. A journey through emptiness, a constant motion through space finding every now and then a naked planet, an aura of beauty and patiently collecting the dust of time in expectation of a glorious sun – surrendering to the all-powerful ground of being.
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