(music: "Hold this place" - Alice In Winter)

A feeling so withhold

Just passing

Or not

Returning

In circles repeated

Soo many times

You forgot it’s a wheel

One that drives you into that nowhere you can't see

Cause it drives you

A driver blind

But not as much as you feel

A something you know too well

For custom, it turned out in that space of yours

Where all ethicality rules out in blunt dismissal

Of truth perceived

Submerged to rules of ink in a world too colourful for writing

Soo pressed between the righteousness and wrongfulness

of so-called being human

the applessness of present recognised

just makes you yell your voice all upside down

inside your own well-proofed cell of mind

where no one can hear

the truth of your well-mannered identity

that roar for enslavement

to justness

to fairness

all well too grasped

all well too followed

a slave of freedom

learnt

a slave of past

remembered

all too well.

 

You’ll never recognize the true

Free mind

Nor will you ever dream to have it

For freedom is no other than just madness accepted

A mindlessness enslaved to death alone

a truthfulness achieved when reason is liberated

overwhelmingly

in a quenching of control

only a deserter would know.