The Dove of Truth
The dove of truth is sitting in our garden
Our gaze inside the room
Light and truth just outside our window
Our eyes see only gloom,
The dove of truth is making dovely sounds
Our ears like better beat and drum
Love and truth just outside our window
But our ears are deaf for them,
The dove of truth is still sitting in our garden
Her message clearly there
Love and light just outside our window
But our egos would not care,
If just our ego could be silenced
The dove of truth is never far away
Truth, light and love is all around,
Our soul will pray.
Joy, sorrow, regret.
Such cliché opinions
Of what Life really is about.
Even our souls must have an opinion.
But none of those matter.
We strive to know meaning,
And we give ourselves contradictory beliefs
To sooth the pain
Of the unknown.
But it is known.
It is known throughout the world
As a belief that is hated by most of man
All because it is cruel.
The fact is,
There is no purpose.
We are a mistake.
Our opinions do not matter
In the void of space
Or even here on Earth.
We will all die,
And remain dead.
There is no afterlife,
Only darkness lies before us.
I honestly hope
This helps someone out there
Realize what life really is,
Even if they don’t want to believe it.
It is true.
This means no offense,
To those who devote their life
To finding the answer,
It is just one man’s opinion
On life currently.
Silence Is A Golden Art
We face each other, expressionless, wordless,
turned into something… something
that wasn’t here a moment ago
something more… or less
a thing… that was once human,
"silence is a golden art acquired only by few"
even thoughts, memories are quiet in this stillness
frozen somewhere inside ourselves, lost
and even every movement seems unreal, floatable
we are carriers of an unbearable lightness,
Behind, we leave clothes and skins
with a sudden fearless, awareness
of the creatures we are becoming
shape-shifters, made of scattered weightless tissue
both locked inside the blue room
where stars and voids are born,
Forged… light and darkness
ghosts in the corner, angered and amazed
look at us… no they are watching us
they know something we don’t… they wait
weaves and wires are broken
slowly, a slice of millions of doors open,
We face each other… apart and together
like we were before, always through time
the navigators that we were and are, lovers
as the matter splits in every direction
we hold a melody of inaudible sounds
within what was once our hands, hearts and souls,
For this secret, they made us come
so, look now, what we can do!