Choosing to stand at the edge of reason is incredibly freeing.
What to do in a life, where no god, no king can give a person a sign?
Be careful nevertheless to not trip over the invisible dividing line.
When you douse yourself in nonsense, Life starts to seem worthless.
Does the only solution lie the refusal of participation?
Let yourself be consumed by the inevitable end,
without any prosecution planned.
No corrupt judges,
No jury of fools,
And no victims to defend.
The absurdity itself can carry your mind to wonderland.
Yet as all things in transformation you can't be the same in any constellation.
When the Self escapes to the mind, what is left to intermingle and entwine?
The mind is such a deeply lonely place, a party without any friends, besides yourself.
Don't you dare project yourself through your imaginary lens,
If you are not ready to accept the person you find behind the curtain.
A monster, amalgamation, made of stolen parts.
I feel alienated, contaminated, poisoned by the strict ideals surrounding me.
What else is left, besides deciding to break free?
Well besides escaping into insanity?
Dancing with the self and death is the choice of brilliance.
But only when your story lives to tell the tale.
The fragile self can only remain through due diligence.
- With additional advice by @TreeCat2007
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Dead Poet Pathway
PoetryPoems fuel the existence of our very being. The soul of our lives are the stories, we tell. Are they not?
