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I believe I had discovered something, 

Short lived yet so bright, so fierce. 

It is also solid, cuz the energies are still there. 

My vision blurs, yet the fire in my heart blazes,

Amidst the stars on the night skyline. 

I ponder whether my faith in the abstract will endure,

Even after my voice has been muted and my spirit crushed by the prevailing belief in the concrete.

Pain, admiration, hope, fanaticism, war, power, corruption, death, and then ashes... 

Two hundred years of youth, one hundred years of arrogance,

And today’s flashy air - so easily forgotten, so readily judged. 

Today’s trends and fanaticism are nothing more than tomorrow’s jokes. 

Will it last? Will it endure? 

Forgive me, for I have already forsaken you, 

And I have cried for you, because love is tough and I don’t want to believe nothing is nothing. 

Thus, I lift up my head, shout to the sky in silence, and pen letters to the future. 

When Albert and Niels finally unite, 

When that tiny string opens infinite possibilities,

When all governments have crumbled, 

When distinctions of gender, race, religion, and language fade into irrelevance, 

When death becomes but a doorway, 

When fear is no more,

Whose art will keep shining?

In the city of wind, I found my heart's embrace,

Where summer's warm caress kissed every tear-streaked face.

The sunrise on Lake Michigan, a moment so divine,

Painted hope upon the waves as they danced in morning's shine.


But in the midst of beauty, bitter memories reside,

Heartbroken moments lingered, casting shadows far and wide.

Yet time, a fleeting traveler, takes us on its flight,

Leaving echoes of our past, both the darkness and the light.


As I bid farewell to your cherished shore,

I carry with me all these feelings, woven at my core.

Uncertain is the future, a path yet to unfold,

But I'll embrace it bravely, with stories left untold.

Amidst golden undulating wheat fields, 'neath a purple sky,

The sky adorned with yellow specks, above and below.

Frail tree branches outstretched, desperately reaching,

Are they lifeless or teeming with vitality, I cannot discern.

Telegraph poles, unyielding and astonishing,

Are they akin to waves in the Red Sea or untouched by Jesus' hand?


A laughter erupts, mingling neediness and grandeur,

Beneath and above.

Sins, sins, and sins concealed, eluding my sight.

A white-headed eagle soars towards a shimmering abyss,

Haystacks lay scattered, excreting on the earth below,

And I sing a melody for my own madness.

I'm insane, the sky is insane, the earth is insane,

East Colorado, America, China, Russia, all enshrouded in madness.

Positive or negative,

A void envelops all with its exclamation marks.

In the depths of darkness, I witnessed tangled webs,

While you conjured flowers from cold, hardened stone.

The truth, a torment to me, as all lights shone upon you,

Persephone shunned her descent, and hell couldn't touch heaven.

A mere wall and two years separated us,

I loved you, yet how could you fathom my emotions?


I've roamed the roads and danced with the wind,

But my heart has found no place to lay its weary head.

I've breathed in fragrant blooms and rested on grassy plains,

Yet you, a lone sunflower, have captivated my soul.

I've scaled mountains and bathed in the vast sea,

But you, the grandest peak, embraced by azure warmth.

In your presence, my wounds healed and my spirit soared,

But could you ever sense the yearnings within my heart?


Fear not, fear not...

Within the temple's walls, I now stand,

Beside a tranquil lake, I find solace.

"The answer is blowin' in the wind," they say,

Bob Dylan's words waft through the air,

As waves chase after waves in endless rhythm.

Tomorrow's adventures beckon with eager hands,

And my heart finds respite without a dwelling place.

May the universe's will guide me,

To the brightest light and the most fiery flame,

So the old fairytales may turn to ash,

And my spirit, unburdened, shall soar free.

I am a beast shackled behind bars, for years after years,

The bars, cold, heavy, and cruel,

They masquerade as hope in this vibrant illusion,

Born from the depths of darkness and the chill of the moon.


Yet within me, a fire blazes,

Its flames spreading like the petals of sunflowers,

This fire embodies a love so fierce,

It screams, it shouts, it yearns,

Craving the freedom to take flight.


But I, burdened and heavy, remain a beast,

My heart, torn and battered, beats with pain,

Its rhythmic pounding echoes the voice of the wind,

Calling from a long-forgotten road.

I want to be free

So I am holding the spear,

Stepping on the body of the one

The one, the illusion, the prejudices,

And the solidification of all lies

The one, was never glorious.

But my knees were soft, 

Thus, it had the halo.

The spear shall penetrate its throat,

And I will take back the light.

But it is never about killing,

I just want to clear the mist, rive the veil,

And then to be free…

How many times must we look up to the sky

To realize that our ancestors' illusions still shackle our legs and arms?

How many times must we look at ourselves

To realize that our rebellious souls are fodder for future jokes?


Rome in 380, France in 1095, Germany in 1933, China in 1966, Iran in 1978...

Sacrifices and pains, prayers narrating an unsayable ritual for mysterious beliefs:

For the greater good, truths shall not be told, and we are not allowed to be free.

Naive lovers' beautiful wishes shine too brightly,

Burning followers into hell.

The magnificent sublimity maps out a tragically heroic journey,

To hope, beyond the clouds, to light, above the sky,

And to slavery, just over there...

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