28 okt. 2012

Let the wings of the wild flower fly..

What is there is there but lost..
What you see is an illusion..
A fire so strong can drive you, rise you.. but fade just as quick..
Wings are never as strong as when you fly on your own,
 let the wind use is breath to lift you above the clouds.
 Nothing is as bright as from above..
You have to climb the latter of knowledge alone, 
the elevator is not an option if you want time to stay..
You cannot pass the time of thought
Lost in the haze of thoughts I disappear,
 Who will hear if no one listens.. 
A wild flower only stays wild when it is free
Captured and hidden behind the glass of gazing eyes 
forced with unpure equals, no longer wild or free she stands
the wind is a fan, the haze is a light, the latter is flat
above is now on top 
where is here and now lost 
the wings of lifted by fire is now FIRE
Ash is now filled with feathers

What you see is no longer an illusion but a reality, 
here is no more, now more is no longer here
Clouds will no longer be
Sun has turned into a shallow light of fluorescence
Colors are fed with artificial happiness

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