#33 I am only human. . . . 

When I wake up from the sleep of mystery
I remember of a distant dream,
One covered in moss and veils of green mischief.

The place is as far as possible from the real
Covered in all snow.
There ancient trees and gates are the things standing,
And thin smokes from the huts left.

Sitting by the window listening to the winds,
Reporting from the far away Prince’s land,
There’s one girl that doesn’t fit in here.

She was the Prince’s match,
Denied him her body, stayed alone
Left a life of secure submission.

One life she had to live, she would, she knew,
She ran away to the far world, away,
Where none of her kind ever went.

It was the human world that she reached,
Surprised to see such beauty everywhere
Still distance amongst everybody.

She wondered how life worked here,
She could only notice “people” talking to tools,
Not others anymore.

It was a life of fragments that she found herself in,
A life very very different from what she wished,
It’s a life of loneliness.

But, it is a life. At least.

You have choices to make. From the start,
As you go on living your life ahead.

She heard some complain, choices aren’t enough.
Money is the only thing that matters to them!
Those people are privileged, not happy.

People who have very little can afford a lot more,
They smile, they cry, they think of happinesses,
Until they die.

She wondered which life she would choose.
Both equally distasteful, no love in them.

The fantasy is bleak to approach reality,
Faded, bloody, sick, sustained miserably.

With every turn, reality is losing its ground
And then will come a rupture
When even truth vanishes and darkness prevails.

Her life stopped in a sight,
From the porch of the setting sun
On the life that had been, would never return.

Here I woke up startled,
Not trusting what I had seen
With my eyes tight shut in sleep.


2 thoughts on “#33 I am only human. . . . 

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