a typical unusual confession
by the room i never entered
nor wanted to
in a place i would rather be forced to go
and unfortunately, i got a choice
words play smart around silence
loosing the nomadic soul
'why' is now taking over 'what'
the beauty of questioning
is hard to find sense
is hard to live with
simply asked, wasn't it?
but that i saw the shadows on the ground
and saw the dust after rain
i saw the hatred of matter
i saw theories controlling the private layers of me
i saw my layers becoming private to avoid the controlling theories
and i simply asked:
why should we live with each other?