Eyes carrying no life.

Soulless. Mindless. A rule.

Dispersing disease.

Descending.

 

There is no colour here

suffocating weight of grey.

The search for the steady

wanting it with plead,

unknowingly continuing to breathe.

 

They’ll never start to be,

for they don’t know the meaning of ‘to become’.

No opinion, vain gazes wandering around.

Stares emptied, full of despise.

Oppressed until totally blind

of what lies in front,

and what fell behind.

 

No ideas. Here nothing is known

just to be known.

To everything! A tag.

To everyone! A price.

 

They live looking in the past,

concepts kept, guarded, adored

for the gods there lived

eternal as the knowledge now dead.

Faithful followers of the long written,

devoted to the fixed, hateful to the change

carriers of the same disease.

 

Here there is nothing to learn.

Here there is nothing to teach.

Things forced, orders fixed.

Everything based upon on right and wrong,

limitations self-imposed.

Reality is the little to be seen, shown

things that appear to be,

for their world has the most beautiful of things,

lost, no time to feed curiosities.

Too afraid of feeling, exposing

because one will say, and others won’t stop talking.

 

The rule is: To die with the most radiant eyes!

Glowing with tears and suffocated smiles,

liberal act of sublime oppression,

inside a world of endless darkness,

covered with flowers, music, and dances.

 

By: Júlio C. Carlos

Image copyright: Johnson Tsang. Pinterest.

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