Starting Point

There are many forms of madness

As well as a great variation of wisdom

We never know where to start

Confusion is the gift of the Creator

It is even harder to know where to stop

Processing and A Wall

The mind is rotating

In circles around itself

Lost in so many ways

Trying to find a way

To have it functional

A connection with everything

Inside myself

Lost Prehistory

Anxiety is so irrational

Still in prehistoric times

It helped us to survive

Now it is hard to respond

To the threat that is so much

More complex

But there might be a compleatly

Different story

The Other World

Found a new world

Beyond the corner

Another place

Very small but still

Somehow relevant

Another universe

With its own weird rules

A place for contempt and

Contemplation, freedom as well as

Frustration, fruition and fertile imagination

That place I thought was mine

Until someone took it away

Awaken me to the futile experience

We call reality

Contrasts

Outside and inside

So different places

Same location and still

Not the same

Inside the chaos, confusion and frustration

Outside the order of man

The birds and the tree

Well ordered paths

Good maner people

Behaving well

Inside a war between

Wounded souls

Wounded egos

Lost aspiration

Outside too cold

Inside too warm

No rest

Only relentless repetition

Of patterns learned

From long time ago

In the great childhood days

To End It All

When I give up

I do it

The whole way

Just until

I am ready

To kill my self

Then I stop

Taking the

Very long and troublesome

Way back

Each time a little harder