• Living?

    The heart beating in the chest.
    The blood flowing in his veins.
    The lymph pouring in the body.
    The life that forces us to perceive, act, suffer.
    But who decided what should be?

    Freedom between ideals.
    The power to make choices between ambitions.
    The desire to decide by yourself between dreams.
    The will to be yourself between hopes.
    But how if there is no freedom, if you haven't choose to start?

    An explanation as a goal.
    A reason as a whished result.
    An answer as craved outcome.
    A sense as an aim.
    But where, where seeking?

    Time runs away, flees,
    from fingers unable to keep it.
    The events come one after the other, unpredictable,
    away from a mind that cannot explain them.
    But towards where?

    The granted brief light withers
    and gives space to an eternal fate.
    Pain and depression fall destructively
    on fleeting moments of peace and serenity.
    But why suffering all this?

    Quickly sails the stormy seas of life
    the ship of Fate, relentless, unstoppable.
    It creates, gives life, condemns,
    absolves, kills, destroys,
    without ever explaining his reasons.

    And to us it remains the dark, the anxiety.
    And to us it remains the inevitable, the incompressible.