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