Freedom

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Make it a religion. 

The plan is grandiose, 

The time is fertile,

The results, speculated

And the human, half transformed.

A bit like the necromonger

Who could almost teleport

But got weak in that one moment

When in between the spaces, 

The human of not yet tomorrow

Is ready to perish. 


But I see an error:

Praying at the age of aquarius, 

Diversity is being removed 

As the Shell of freedom

Such that the essences

Could meet 

In the utopy of common consciousness.

The energies claim all-included, 

But the path we are invited to walk on

Is baptized with the crave for happiness. 

The paradox of niceness 

Can carve out till the standard shape

And all that we delete

Was what was meant, but deemed. 


A born blind's brain is special:

A perception of different clarity 

And so balanced areas

That schizophrenic behavior 

Cannot be conceived. 

The world that we beg for 

Is ruled by the dullness of comfort

Soon stereotyped

By eugenics and fears. 

Oh, please allow fear

As all is allowed 

And all those crazy feelings

And even add some more! 

A heart must grow gigantic

To be as light of experiences

As Anubis likes. 

For that is when we take it all off

And bath in the pleasure of our freedom

While the heart who dressed in armor

Became the armor

And leaned heavy. 


Can I ran wild

With feet without enhancement

In the forest of earth, 

In this same dream

With the ones who take the hyperloop, 

The perfect ones

And the ones who need no perfection? 




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