Future

And when i fulfilled all my childhood dreams?
Fired up the diamond mountain,
flew on the jungle colored carpet,
read about eternity on the tropics,
saw the forms of perfection,
got reborn as a mistery,
changed my days for hours,
counting years as decades,
and started a new era...
How could I clamp all my remained desires?
The void reeking of ether, bleeding from nothingness,
the nothingness that roots in eternity
and points at that purplish gray future,
that assures our throbbing existence,
in the ruins of routine and tradition?
Selection doesn't mean free will?

The gravid sunset, shows us the end of our years,
the dusk of the philanthropic genious,
the pink-coloured future of our glazing youth.
Elevating illusion of liberty,
feathery disbelief-curvature,
reflectiing, bright-green mass of flesh,
forget your inherited fears!
You could be reborn in the desolation of thought,
to express this embracing void,
the shallowness diffused from faces,
the shame of our weak abilities,
my consciousness surfeit from my criticism,
my thoughts ready for reconciliation,
my cells lurking in the shreds of tranquillity.
You could rearrange them all, with the charm of novelty...
Selection doesn't mean free will!

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