Fooled by Realm

Depth into bright light, no sound, no rise. For whom shall I wait for, when time is distant and sorrow is flawed. Take the flight before dawn comes closer and the screams become gasps of thin fluid air, blowed and wiped by myself. When nothing is round and it's all around, then shall our souls seek revenge, so tender, sweet, unsettled rage. Rough cheeks follow the touch, but its ending point isn't declared, unless the lips finally unite. No kiss is true, always fake, low standard categorization of surreal lines in my head. Tonight, smiles are cold and hands become stone, charity is stolen due to its lack of corruption. Now, when cities are forsaken and freedom is regulated, our destiny does not dare to ask: where is the finish line? Damned finish line, he said, no trace it holds nor its roses glow. For this life of misery and forgiveness, now its late. Where trees are tall and reality is confused, smoke comes out and colors grow. Clouds are green and eyes become dimmed, then and only then our bones will turn into flesh. Neurons are crushed and heads are turned, crime is done under a surrendered glare. Unreality of time passed by, faces never seen, sunk, not shrunk, in jealousy. Dreams may do of us what they wish, and no choices are forgotten, nor made. Joy comes out from each inhale of sweet air, its exhale is like a rush of blood to my head, no shots of pain are released, only of melancholic ecstasy. Excitement of being alive, but at the same time it is bitter by memories, in hurricane forms, blows my mind, everything becomes displaced, unarranged. Flakes of ice hurry to be absorbed by the white ground, distortion they fall, cruel, harsh days of winter come. Seasons, all alike, of time, weather, love and above all, of madness. Twisted thoughts coming from the crowd, who cheers and kisses; brainsick fools. All fooled by the world, and its content; isolated by alternated lives, which result to be connected, bonded, and the same ending, dead and lame, no heroic actions are involved. Reason becomes lost in uneven memories and the emotions carried to the edge, shapeless, endless. Although memories have become flashlights, now life itself hollow.