On the chosen path, a swampy terrain
Where the nauseating mixes with the rarefied air.
The reflection of the night sun, smiles on the surface.
An invitation to disperse the stillness of the mirror.
Strange sensations run through the cold skin
Death skimming and lurking beneath the sky
Trees roaring to the beat of desolation
Sunk in the mud, contemplating verses of a deciduous universe.
Starting at every instant
A journey conceived by conscience
Existentialism
The sense of human essence.
Conviction imposed by freedom
The punishment is immortality
In a forest where nothing seems to be
Benign or hostile, simply indifferent.
Floating across the path
A new human alliance
In the alienated nature
Reconciling the lost offspring… humanity
Where are the free spirits?
Where in the forest did death befriend?
A long march where the truth is not certain
A long march where the forest accepts fears as offerings and offense.
The experience is to keep going
Understanding life as a memory
Wherever the chosen path opens up
Fate is the one who pulls the strings.
The void was filled, a breath before leaving
From the immeasurable mouth of the unpredictable
The swamp is left behind and will never be the same
The landscape and the spirit have changed
Still wrapped in water fed by death
The swamp remains in the thoughts
A whole life seems traveled on the light-dark path
Bright light looms in the distance
The ground to exhale a warm breath
A dawn at the end, the awakening of consciousness.
Starting at every instant
A journey conceived by conscience
Existentialism
The sense of human essence.
Immersed in the morning light, the path should live
A sharpened view
Contemplating the world
With other nuances.