A last encounter in the world of dreams

There you were. And there I was.
The moon’s gaze was still upon us.
Surrounded by mighty mountains,
In each others final stare.

You asked me ‘Do you want to stay?’
I answered ‘No’
‘But in truth, I really don’t want to go’…

‘You’ll miss your train’ she said.
‘Don’t worry, it won’t matter’ I said.
The faint memory then vanished.
All hope and desire perished.

There you stood. There I was walking.
A strange dream, perhaps not worth of talking.

Maybe a farewell. Maybe a goodbye.
Perhaps a madman’s illusion seen
through a teary eye…

Who can say, who can deny,
The future, the past, the present
Nor our fate we can defy…

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Tears

There in the distance a faint glow - a red flickering ball in the blue sky above. I see black smoke rising and a whisper of men and women screaming resounds in my ears. “Where am I?” I wonder, scoping my surroundings in curiosity. The floor is tinted in a bluish gray - the ground I’m seated on feels hard. I look to my right and see a steep hill rising. There are lush greens on the top, but the rising is a deep brown. “Uh- ah-” A tiny voice awakens left to me. I turn around and am amazed. There is a small girl lying just next to me dressed in an all gray gown. I observe her for a moment. I wonder if she’s alright. “Who are you little girl?” I ask her. Maybe I should have started with how are you doing, but my curiosity got the better of me. “Where-” she starts “am I? Who are you? What!” She stops in mid-sentence as she catches a glimpse of her clothing. “WHAT HAPPENED TO MY DRESS!” she calls out to me. “Calm down, will you? How should I know, I’m just as surp

A cycle of introspection

A voice from deep within asked him: "What is it that makes you whole?" In an empty desert, on a path chosen long ago, he stopped for a moment. He didn't wonder who the voice belonged to, he already knew. He always knew when his conscience was talking. As always, it kept taunting him or at least he thought it was. "I've given up on being whole long ago, I've accepted it... to be broken, to have fallen..." His voice was weary, tired even. Not from the endless walking, but from this ever repeating cycle of questioning. In a way, his answer felt rehearsed. This didn't justify thinking, so he didn't. An auto-response to an auto-generated series of questions. He had no answers, so why bother. "Must be nice, running away, avoiding the difficult questions, but there is an obvious flaw in your reasoning." Sometimes it scared him, this invisible voice. Ever so often, it would try to break the cycle by approaching him from new angles.

A mix of thoughts

Do you feel the sun rise in the morning or do you lament the fall of the moon? A curious journey through the flow of time, bouncing off the wrinkles of this old sphere, our temporary home - the blue planet. Have you gone out today, breathed in the fresh air of spring? The cleansing air touches your lungs and triggers a new sensation within - you feel alive once more; and once more your woes vanish into thin air. The ground we stand and walk upon, a mix of earth and seeds of life. There exists another world, on a different scale and with another purpose. A plain field of grass I desire, a horse and a saddle, to ride towards the horizon, discover, breath and rise to new heights with my soul. I am a free man; no human shall dare to bind me. I will tear apart the chains of bondage and rise my hands towards the sky. For this world and the life forms on it are my responsibility. A scream into the empty space in front of me, a cry for help or a call for charge? Everything we do,

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