Del Sol

I was so appalled to hear her sobs on the phone
Spasms of asphyxiation between her sentences, I stood there in the dark not knowing what to do
The contents of my mind all thrown to the bottomless well of commotion

It was the first time I ever heard her voice in so many pieces

"Even you,", I thought, "could break...."

I was momentarily bemused, but for the next minutes of listening to her unintelligible moans it felt that the world as I know it has broken down along with the rhythm of her breathing

Have you ever known a person with a smile so powerful that you had no doubt their hearts were made of steel
And solid goodness
That they are just too strong to falter, so you deemed them an anchor to hold you down to earth
A living check-point to go back to, when you stand bewildered at the borders between sanity and dementia
Not knowing on which side you belong
A character molded from dignity that they find it beneath them to shed tears over mundane matters so they laugh gaily
While their faces borrowed fragments from the night

For that I paid her a great deal of respect. The only sun that still dazes my eyes even when
I'm not looking

She, in all her tender glory
Was my last pillar
And nothing makes sense anymore when even she 
Broke down

I'm too afraid to ask, and she doesn't seem to recall that to doctor a wound
You gotta tell what's wrong

I remembered the first time I saw her frown; she used to sigh with a childish "Boohoo" that life isn't treating her well
And she needs a change of air; have a fat burger and laugh at strangers; muddy her feet at the beach and sing out loud on a speeding vehicle,
Then go back home too tired to remember
I'd cancel my plans for the week and go wherever she wanted
Because I knew I could fix a crooked smile with light diversions
And I knew that at the end of the day we would park the car on the side after getting two cups of tea each , and sit in quietness until she feels that the sadness is too irksome to keep
Contained
And I'd listen to her while humming along a Zidane song so she wouldn't feel too inhibited to lay her heart
On her palms

How do you fix a crooked heart, though ?

She only saw me crying once
When someone died
And I couldn't breath
I don't remember much but I remember that she came as fast as she could and she rocked me till I came back to my senses

This isn't so bad, I thought, breaking down in front of someone 

They tell you nothing new, but it doesn't feel the same when someone else is patting the wound and telling you it's going to be 
Okay

And I vowed since then to be her shoulder to cry on
I'd listen to it all, for hours and hours when it's cold outside and the windows get smudged with the warmth of our sighs
While staring at the bubbles clustered at the center of my cup; too cool to sip and too heavy; satiated with the pathos that seeped through the open scars on  my palms; the ones that i got tattooed while patting their shoulders;
My loved ones

"Wo law ta3ref ya zalem, ba7ebbak gadr eeeh" ".....it's gonna be okay, my darling"

Being there
For somebody ...outweighs the world to me
And If the world would disappear tomorrow, or the day after
I'd grab my family and run to the mountains ,and she would be the next to come back for

I don't know what happened this time, and I'm too afraid to ask

She wouldn't tell what broke her
And I can't probe her much, when she sounds this bitter
I'm too afraid that it wouldn't be okay this time
And that I wouldn't be able to lie when I know better
I'm too afraid that whatever it is, it would be far worse that I have ever felt
I'm too afraid she'd lose her brightness, the one that saved me so many times
Hers had the color of a breaking day, a lemon dahlia on the far horizon
I know no one else with a vibe so soothing

She's a faded gray right now

And the colors on my pallet have dried out while I was thinking of what to do
What to say
What not to say
I guess you can paint over people's pain until you can't
And no matter how vigorously you swirl your tainted brush in that basin of blackish water
There are kinds of sadness that you can't wash away

For the first time
In a long, long time
I lost the key to my solicitous inventory and could recall nothing but one line;  "I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry that I don't know how to fix you"

Ecce Homo

I asked him if he thought I could make it
He grinned under his grayish mustache :

"Anything is possible and nothing is predictable."

The muscles around his eyes as stern as a wall
They pick on my last nerve ,ol'man's ways, so illusive
We walked steadily towards the glass door at the end of the corridor
The sun rays blazing from afar looked infinitely vindictive

There has got to be a sorta metaphor hidden there

This is some serious business, I thought

I don't say "Serious" and "Business" in the same breath
For it turned out to be a great myth; sustaining an existence by proving points
And passing rites
But this queer fellow, with his rimmed hat and a vibe so yellow, he

Looks at me in a strange fashion

Like he's envious of all the time that I luxuriously waste that he could've
Laboriously used to pursue the buried passions of his distant youth
We could've been good friends, geezer, if only you knew
How I talked myself into growing strong, in my fresher days
When I was punished without a hearing, for cutting myself
How I managed to stride alone without a veteran guide in this dogmatic maze
To prove "them" all wrong; when they said that I wallowed in delusions and craze
That for 15 springs I've been too blind
To see that there was no "they", in the end
Except for in the dungeons of my mind
That I woke at last, and was so amazed to find 

That God 
Was there all along

Turns out life was not a dream after all
My flesh and bones; these knuckles and nipples hurt for real
This food I nibbled and people sticking out of the background was not at all odd
Shadows relapsed into shadows, and the colors of their skins
Looked a tad crisp I
Could see their halos in the dark like will-o'the-wisp
And walking around I didn't feel so hollow anymore
Perhaps
All I wanted was to get found in this frightening wake
Being trapped in a livid state where I couldn't tell what was fake
See, you can't get lost in the dark when you've lived there all along

But
But light tingles when one prolongs the tips of their fingers
Reaching through
And did you know ?
The soldier left out from the call for the great siege is deemed weak for the wrong reasons
It's not at all a grave treason to betray bigoted hopes and
Expectations so tripped and devoid of solid reason 
We reached the gates of terminus, and I had to stop my train
The man with the rimmed hat started towards the wild inferno
He said; "The ball is now in your pitch, child", before turning around in haste
I whiled, crestfallen at the sight of the stairs ahead ,they
Looked excruciatingly punishing, yet he delved in one bound
A gesture of immeasurable flout to my trembling feet; I
I didn't dare to budge
And the man with the rimmed hat ,he
Didn't even care to notice that in my limp head
Descending a few steps was such a prodigious feat

What are blocks of brick and grout to the untameable mountains ?

A bold fool with broken bones a few; could live to laugh at a shrewd crone, the rest of her days
She drones in a haze
Is that what Icarus whispered to his faltering wings before he jumped ?

Who cares, if I could fly?

Not many a people, I don't wish to lie

I'd still be alone on the other side if I
Made it through
And does it matter if I could fly higher

Or stoop too low ?
If I marched to my end or walked ever so slow
Where I came from and where I'm going wouldn't amount to much
When it becomes harder to breath, as I soar
Or fall from a steep, to the abyss lurking beneath
Perhaps he used to hide behind the bars of fear back in the rye field
Of his innocent youth

Didn't care to unmask a truth, or stumble to uncouth lands
As long as his heart was bumping blood into his veins, and he could earn his bread
And dance in the rain
"I feel so whole", he must think, though he was repeatedly told that his soul lacked
Pieces he never had
He went searching, thrown upon his shoulder was a heavy sack of doubts
What he sought, he couldn't find looking from above; and the abyss he once gazed at
Has gazed back in flout
Perhaps it was his doubts that weighted him down

Perhaps the point was to never bother missing what was missing

He must've realized, falling to the abyss, hissing

Such a poor lad, Icarus kun
Lo, too much ambition could kill you
But too little ambition could kill you just the same
It has nothing much to do with money or fame
The void you should've been trying to outrun is the one in your heart
It sounds lame, but that is verily the ultimate dilemma
Of being alive, isn't it?
He didn't know, hence he suffered then

But why do I choose to suffer thence?

Why ?

I was engulfed by the flames as I touched the ground

And I realized that I
Have never
For the life of me

Poured my heart into anything whatsoever

Why ?

Why ?

Is life too short to strive ?
Or is it too long to eat and bed like a careless kid
Set back to watch as the beehive grows and thrives ?
Why ?
What difference does it make to have had a purpose 
When you know, in the depths of your heart, still
That the tomb is more dark than is chill ?
That I am verily going to die
That you are going to perish as well
That we are all standing at the sill of doom

Why ?

We are all going to fade, heavy breaths in a winter night
Vagrant shades in a summer noon
Some would live for an instant of mirth and boon
Repeated phrases, a crowd of dazes
Cyclic and boring, yet leave like comely phases of the timeless moon
Some would tread on earth with grace, struggle and go with a sigh at their throe
Some refuse to go gentle, without a haul of thunder
But we would still 

We would all still go under

Our past lives, our truths and lies shall turn to mist and reduce to dust as we

Sink to the bottomless pit of nothingness

I took the bow, rubbed a cube of rosen as hard as i could, while musing
Stardust sprinkled on my lap, light and trivial
Pure, like my dreams
Small, like my hopes
Volatile, like my fears, and mopes
Though the opposite wall was garnished with feats
They all seemed to have no avail when my relaxed E started to wail
Gotta trim my nails, man
There are things that I still don't get
There are peaks that I can't conquer yet
There are folks that I haven't met
There are all the books and horizons, paintings and beats
That I haven't relished with the hungriest buds of my young soul
And that realization shook me to the core; made my heart shudder with ecstasy
It's gotten sore

Don't you understand that it is not the mountain that i see before me
The cause of this unrest that borders on pain and the countless refrains in my lines ?
The pointless endeavors I delve through that cause nothing but bouts of rue

It is but the Ultimate Why 

It is but the reason Icarus wanted to fly; when he could've taken a raft
When he could've died a much nobler death, feeling the waft at his doorstep 
It's the Why 

That I scream in despair 

That is returned by my echo as I plant my claws and thrust my toes
Up the mountain

Down the stairs

Tell me;
Is it true that to live is to suffer ?
And have you truly lived if you haven't shed parts of your own
Your skin and tears, 
Your blood, and your sweat
Your memories
Your fears
And your regrets ?

Exercise

"A little exercise", said stout Pottier, our French instructor ,his cheeks as rosy as ever.
"Write down your likes and dislikes, hopes and fears"
I looked up and smiled,
"Must we?"
I habitually smile when I look at this fella with blonde lashes,
Way too fair you could mistake him for the sun taking a walk
I could read aloud a character description from a Tolstoy book and he'd match it perfectly
He said he won't read, as tempting as that sounded
"Correct it yourselves"
So write we did
I peaked around, they all wrote that they loved the sun and the sea
Hate war and blood, or scared of hounds
What do i like ? what do i fear ? I asked myself as i peered
This shouldn't be hard

"I like reading", "J'aime lire"

"And writing poetry" "et j'adore ecris  (ecrire de) la (poesie)"

"I'm a poet ,(though your ball-pen shambles), and this is a poem (lol)" "Je suis un (unne) barde , voici (ceci) est un example "

"I love myself" "J'aime moi (je m'aime)"

"Or I try" "ou je essaie (tente)"

"To love my strangeness " "de aime (aimer) mon (bizarrerie)"

"And I love him, his grown composure" "Et il aime (l'aime) , specialement son calm(e) ?"

"But he's artless" "mais il est ignorant"

"And I'm complicated" "et je suis compliquee"

"It's the source of all this tension" "il est la raison de cette la tension" GOOD

"It seems he doesn't like 'complicated' " "Se n'aime pas (il ne l'aime pas) de tour (tout) les (des) compliques (compliquées)"

"And I'm so tired" "Et je suis tres fatigueé"

"Of you and your swinging moods, sir" "De vous et votre  (vos sautes) de humeur"

"Of your forced love" "De votre amour..... (obligé)"

"Of my life" "De mon (ma) vie"

"Of this life" "De ce (cette) vie"

"I'm tired of clinging to your shanks as you walk away" "??" x

"Of watching you try to breath life through the arid lips of my hanged love 
from the highest tower in my fort" "??" x

"It is long gone" "il (ille) est déjà morte"

"And I'm sick of being tired" "Je suis tres fatiguee d'etre tojours fatiguee" EXCELLENT


4/10 

The Small Print

I come with flaws.

Through and through, from the tips of my toes and across the tunnel of my spine
Up the lump of cerebrum inside my skull
They seep through my pores, the traits you deem as faults and follies
As you look into my eyes, and your searching gaze would hull my barricades
I don't know if I should love my imperfections, though
I just learnt with time not to mind them
Much
Would like to say that I don't heed yours like I
Accepted mine
But if we are going to play this game
Pick on little vices that came with the package
After we've signed upon receipt
Bear in mind that I, too, could point and blame
I, too, could lyrically defame your person
I, too, could start an arson in your lungs
Jitter the flames with my obnoxious puffs
As I shove down canisters of burnable contempt
Down your trachea
Let it hail, with chide and thunder, to put down the last bits of pride
Hiding among the woeful rubble in your soul
I, too, am not so tender
You should remember that you ,as well, are a barren canvas
Scrapped and bleached to no avail
Put out for display though full of patched holes
And blotches of black in a failed attempt to get the hale shade

Fallen curios stand at the back in manifest shame

I come with flaws, but yours could outshine mine in the starkest day
Could macerate the moon and stars in the darkest night
I come with flaws, it's true, and I
Thought I'd fling them disowned before they
Climbed up from the tips of my sleeves, screaming in supplication

But I

Chanced to gaze at the floor while avoiding your eyes
Found some of your own, bereft and forsaken
Though common and akin
And I

Understood

Let's make a deal; I'll tie my tongue if you
Looked the other way.

Reflections

//1

Fireworks are a piece of art
I thought, while watching the fiery darts ascending through the night
It builds up one's hopes, knowing that something is going to burst
In a ceremonious fashion 
Too far away to inflict harm, still surreal and powerful
Rivers of rainbows, flooding the safe abode of the stellar denizens
A pause of serenity
Silence expands its wings across the dome
Time reaches a still point
Before the next verse in this stanza in full bloom
It's not the booms, it's not the flickering lights
It's not the glint and the sparks as they ignite
It's the pithiness of it all
Their eventual dissipation, it's the reigning quietness beyond the blasts

The imminent reduction of everything sublime 

Into mere nothingness
Your past mistakes and troubles
Would crumble and fade like sodden rubble

One worry,
----------- Boom
One regret
----------- Boom
Another mistake
----------- Boom

Your thoughts waste away in beautiful explosions.



//2

Have always smiled at the naivety of the saying
"New year, new me"
Wish fate and people could change on command
How amusing, life would've been
But one doesn't take a conscious decision to change, see
We just do on the long run, sometimes we don't even notice
It's just another day gone, a mere instant is the difference
Between 11:59 pm and 12:01 am
One remains standing on the same spot
Probably held a rotting sigh from the year before
And let it out, too heavy to fade away
It lingers, seeps again into your lungs
Same faces around, same expressions, same wishes
Recycled indefinitely
The rhythm of your heartbeats still didn't change
Though you jumped through a calendar
The same dull sensation on a roller-coaster ride of endless rounds
Slowing down as it reaches the top, before
The inevitable fall
You pretend to be thrilled as you squall
But deep within you still know that 
Come tomorrow when the sun rises, you'll flip to another sheet
For fresher worries and fears
Different causes of laughter and tears
To scribble themselves down.

//3

I sat by the shore, as usual, though it was an unusually starless evening
A bit sinister when the moon and his harem take the night off
The sea is beautiful in its fury, there is no breakwater on this beach
Though warm it could thaw a writer's block
A spiteful drunkard knocking at the feet of the dock
I sat far away from its reach, figured its limits by now
Seems like i come here more often than i should
I hummed a song, and remembered a person residing beneath the soil

On this fine evening of December 31st
They used to smile when they listened to it
Bet they would've been smiling now 

It's finally raining, and life is good
Bet that's what they whispered along with their last breath
It was
Nice when they used to smile while breathing, though
These two called out from afar; said that i should see what they found
I wiped that one tear that trickled to the corner of my mouth
Ran out to them, barefoot, across the cold sand
Found a squid washed ashore, it seems,
Wriggled in pain as it spat out bits of its life
Perhaps it got fed up with the major bore that is Home
It wanted to run away


Wanting to live so bad could kill you, I thought.

//4

She said with a casual air that she asked a hex about my ways
I asked her why ,with a crooked smile, for we were closer than that
Forgot that I should be telling her it's frowned upon
She said, they summed it all in a brief line

I have "a heart of gold", she was told, but have "a short, short temper"

"How so bold, that hick doesn't even know me", I hastily defended
I fumed alright, because I couldn't explain
Even more because I shouldn't have felt the need to explain
That only God knows why I grew to be so 
Only God knows
The things that piled, weighing down on my pillars

Eventually falling

Only God knows
That I learnt to fortify my heart so thick, bullets of doubt
Wouldn't get through
And only God
Knows
What made me wash my hands of people so quick
It still rings though
I had a slight feeling that it was true, in a way
You could hate a stranger you have never met
Because they knew you only too well.

//5

We don't talk anymore
Figured it would be easier
Why bother talking someone into change
When you know you don't have the right to mold humans like pieces of pottery
Break and re-write their senseless shenanigans into rhythmic poetry
So it could appeal to your reason
I don't need to love you, and you probably can't reciprocate anyway
You don't need to understand, and I don't need to explain
I don't have to take mending things into my hands
As you don't need to bare your fangs every time I clicked my tongue

When words become so light, perhaps the graveness of silence
Could convey better what you both want to say

It's still curious, how folks go through all sorts of trouble
To join their hearts
Despite the disparities
When they could just walk away,

Say, how long does it take for acceptance to turn into tolerance ?



//6

As I reflect with bight on the things that I managed to cross out
From my so-called list of "Resolutions"
I realize
That I've regretfully become a person of few words and too impulsive an act
As well as a person with little patience, and frequent eruptions
Furnished with a tint of disturbing imbalance between a boorish candor and a polished tact
Depending on the mettle condition
Though my aim was only to become stronger, as loaded that word is
Stronger, and so in peace with my flaws enough to love people
Without relying on their love

Strange, how your resolutions could lack resolution 

When did I change so much? I wonder

When being soft and patient were my prime qualities
Perhaps
My trademark forbearance I stored in a torn sack
One that I , relentlessly, carried around on my back
No matter how sore
And the more I walked, through the years

The less I got to give 

Like water seeping through the cracks of a boulder
It seems patience runs out
The older
One gets.



//7

I can sense your quelled unrest
Drums in your chest

But I pretend not to notice

And I very well can imagine how this must feel
Yet I still don't extend my hand to pat on your shoulder
Held upright as you heave under the weight of defeat
As well as I know that my closeness to you adds to your misery

But I nevertheless refuse to walk away

I revel in your pain, and I say it without a spec of shame

Like the habitual knave that I am
My kindest boon
Because, as I look into your eyes
I could recognize the familiar face of bitterness
And as I listen to your voice, I could spot the blemish in its tone
Before breaking to a lower octave
It's not at all on account of meanness
You should just learn the hard way, like all of us did
Not to make
The dire mistake

Of loving the wrong person

Thursday ,31/12/2015
12:34 am, Ras Al Khaima, United Arab Emirates

'

Soliloquy III

Humdrum

Yesterday, I realized i was sitting on my couch at home without the faintest recollection of the 20-mins drive to reach there.
Nothing.
All erased.
Seems like one of these dreams that you know you had but of which you can't remember much;
Mere fragments of sighs and star dust that you see floating tauntingly, but can't seem to touch
Not even the monotone hunt for a parking space, pulling over under the gaze of the moon and the crossing of the street in haste, the usual salutations to the porter, the waiting on the lift, and the the habitual inspection of my attire and makeup on the back mirror just to make sure i wasn't looking like a loafer all day,
The stop at the 8th floor then the 11 steps to my door.
I counted them once.

When i was awake.

Stay, i don't remember at all reaching out to the keys in the left pocket of my purse and the two attempts at turning it at the hole.
Always two, exhaustive trials before i get it right. Strange, how I remember that
Not even my automated "I'm home" that is returned with a muffled voice with an onerous tone
Uttered by my echo from the living room busy ironing the shreds of disappointment that I soon wrap around my falling shoulders
Before i crash at last on the couch after that long, long day
That is all curtained by thick smolder
Of forgetfulness
Not even the thoughts that occupied me so, I could harness

How is that even possible ?

Perhaps, it is not wistful thoughts; the usual suspects, that stole my vigil
I can't seem to concentrate over this stanza of infinite frequencies ringing through my skull
And the constant bangs
In my chest that demand my full attention
ba-dum
ba-dum
ba-dum
ba-dum
You know, reigning quiet is actually disturbing
Ah, Ventricular Fibrillation, my Professor said earlier that day
I don't remember the title of the lesson, but I sure could put together bits and pieces as I regain my poise on my squeaking settee, shush down the noise inside my mind
And search for the voice
Of silence
The more I listen, the more i could recall
Or
ba-dum
Forget

It messes with your heart, he said, lighting bolts of l'amour,
And the slower they seep through one's pores, the more painfully their guard of reason discomposes
The jolt reaches so deep it causes explosions in their heart,
Makes it rain and decant fresh petals of roses
And a string of fervent poems would seep along the scum from their arid lips
That man looked like Zorba The Greek with eyes burning zelously
I could imagine him dancing to his own heart beats
Frantic kicks of la Mazurka, showering in the graces of the evening clouds
ba-dum
Strange man, long day
And my retention of events begins to wan
Oh, someone said that ephemeral strikes of existential implosions
Don't kill you
If they are short, no matter how acute
They make you ultra, instead, coughing smoke and desolation, true
Nevertheless an evolved species that live to carry through
Or
ba-dum
Something like that

The sleeve of such recollections always eludes my reaching fingers until I set still
And clear my ears
But i mysteriously started to forget my skillful ways
Could be when I was told to my face for the first time in many years
With a mocking scoff that I was a major
Disappointment
I smiled, and took off
Repeatedly sweeping my windshields on the way
Thinking it was raining when it was the tears in my eyes that blurred the world
I wasn't sad
Nothing of value was broken
I remember trying to laugh but the sound that came out was darkened
Along with my thoughts
Piles of chaff
Blown away by the wind through the cracked windows as I sped up hoping to reach
Somewhere
ba-dum
ba-dum
ba-dum
Do you sometimes freak out as you become so aware
Of your vital signs while engulfed in a bubble of silence and solitude, these lub dubs in your chest ,these green dwellings of your veins, and your swelling lungs, like the rising tide;

A consciousness so vivid of your being 
Alive and uproarious

It gives birth to bumps on your tremulous skin, though it was silence what you sought, and it was silence what you thought is going to coat you once you muffle the voices inside
But , alas !
Silence, eternal and solicitous, a nebula of mist in which you could hide for a life time
Is merely a myth, my friend

There is no escaping the loud chimes in your chest

And there are the thoughts you killed unborn,

All the words you bit your tongue before they were torn from the nibble of your teeth
These infinite records of white noise keep playing on repeat, until you don't feel the need to scribble the lyrics down

T'is so terrifying to realize that one can't settle in real quietness
Except for in the darkness of the tomb

What killed Schemkov wasn't an aching strike of ardor
It was the slow seizure of fullness 
The morbid mixture of fear and anticipation tumoring in his heart
The realization of his utter unworthiness , and falling helplessly into the vortex of existential degradation that his faint psyche
Just couldn't bear

Pray, who is Schemkov ?

Ah, I have a test on Lighting Protection this Thursday.

Starlight

Do you ever encounter moments in your life
When you suddenly stop in motion
Regrettably notice that you float upon a flimsy raft
Swaying in the middle of the vast blue ocean
You are kinda
Sorta
Practically
Lost
Though it doesn't matter
You even forgot why you started to hone your barb
Stormed out with nothing to spare for gear but your garbs
Prolly got tired and sick of the reek of mediocrity
And the major bore that is your comfort zone
Home
Is what you left behind
Or what you left seeking
Or
Thought you were

See, a point is easily lost on a plane
When you don't care where it lies

Amid the haziness of recollections you could only remember
The thrill of resolution pulsing up your spine
The moment you broke your chains and crossed the line
"I'm going places", you explained
"I'm meant to go places", you sustained
And here you are

Somewhere

Nowhere
Recanting your credo; little birds that boldly jump off the nest for the first time
Can't possibly be aware

Of the concept of  "Falling"

Man, grownups make everything sound so hard
You grabbed a hastily scribbled manual when you resolved to depart
That much you could remember as you hold in your trembling hands
A hefty book of regrets and What-Ifs
You wish you could retard to the point where it didn't matter much
Whether you grasped the smudgy footnotes left by an anonymous
Pages seem to waltz to the tempo of the blowing breeze
As you look bewildered about your chattering knees
And the falling shoulders
Of your expectations returning home to your wheezing bosom 
So crushed and appalled at fate's inattention
It's all so tediously blue around, they report
The tide is high
The dome is gray
A second is a day
An infinity is a night
The waves they chide
And doom is nigh
Your trembling bones could tell that a storm
Is on the way
Tomorrow, if not today
And all the gear, all the armors you could wear
Won't save you
For the waves will rave you
And leave you bared under the lashes of the sun
Scared and stunned

Trying to adjust the rhythm of your lungs

To the swings of your reaching arms
All alone, 
Facing the horrors of the unknown
See, you could row away, disappearing into the shadows
Or let the waves lead you astray into the night
But trust that the space you'd leave behind
Won't stay hollow
For long
The earth will keep turning as you wallow
And the sun and stars
The moon, and the waves
Even Jupinter and Mars
Will live on
Like you never were

What i'm trying to say is

Do you ever encounter moments in your life
When you are seized with the grand realization
Of your
Complete
And utter
Insignificance
That you shook to the core in ecstasy upon grasping

The true essence of freedom ?