On heaven’s book
You go knocking
With hope to enter
A merciful piece,
...
At the edge of the day
I heard some noises.
It was some voices
Vociferating over the mountain.
...
Look, my friend! Look at the sky... A new day awakes of a poor light.
As reality doesn't really exist. Only the immaterial swing of our meanings
Shapes the real. And all our lies we pretend as truth re-organizes the skein of our life.
Reality doesn't exist, only the untruth... And it spays on the day a colour of the opacity...
...