|
|
This is a story that came from the void.
From the infinite emptiness.
No sound, no feelings, no dreams, no regrets.
Just an infinite looped thought, staring at an immense black blank canvas.
The memories, oh, the memories I used to have, worn-out, vanished in this path of solitude. No memories persisted. Not even to mourn.
The places I used to know got lost in time and remained light-years away.
An unforgiving time with a million days per year.
Short days, short as nights.
A huge contrast, light-shadow, airy-damped, sickly aligned in a nauseating spinning motion that creates an uncomfortable cold war in my nucleus.
I’m tired of being half light and half shadow.
Constantly changing, like an empty libra in the wind.
Wobbling.
With the wind.
This loop is endless.
I have no summer, not even spring.
This cold penetrates my bones, my body shrivels.
Upon me, no yellow leaves shall fall.
There is no air to breathe.
Here, trees were forbidden to root on my chest.
I have only frozen seeds hoping for the right soil.
Connectors of life, sleeping in a dark cold chamber.
I am stuck in this momentum.
I am stuck in this momentum.
Stuck in this momentum.
Walking in a direction I can not choose.
My mass gets colder and drier year by year, and this giant mess is the only thing that is still with me, tamely with me, in this unlimited space.
How can It be possible to be an unknown to myself?
To feel that there’s no decision you can make.
No change you can even desire.
No ambition.
Nothing.
I wish I could escape, I wish I could feel attracted.
I wish I could feel. I wish… if you could hear me, pull me out of this vicious circle.
Release me.
Let me fall.
Please.
Let me fall.
|
