Desatured
"State of simplification ... all is desatured ... only black and white ..... all I can perceive are black and white .... a nothing more ... all these shades of gray are but a screen I fail to translate or give terms or words to define ... they fail to impress me ..... from a land to land still swallowed by indifference as I'm led to the same story ..... I try to write it down several times with different words but they ceased to make sense to me .... what is to be written is what has been written ... what is to be said is what has been said .... history repeats .... similar stories yet different names and numbers we give each day to feel something has changed .... dust covered me to the shoulder and now it has reached my neck .... this world is rotten .... the same grains of dust never tire to cover my glasses ..... I wipe them again .... the same face I've seen for years in the mirror .... aging little by little ... I cannot care less .... the same cup of coffee ..... the same clock hanging on the wall it though has been broken ..... it stopped decades ago when dust has reached my knees ..... life slowly festers ..... so I woke up one of those days and I made decision .... let this dust bury me to my core ... as it buried my soul .... dust covered me to the chin and now has reached my lips .... even the words I muttered everyday are sealed away .... hidden beneath my tongue .... I have to wait until dust covers the top of my head .... and then soothing black will be all I can see .... a desatured screen will be a dream long gone."
No comments:
Post a Comment