The same faces repeat
again and again as masks
before the minds,
no human wears one
that hasn't evoked
grief, hate, love
and lust in the long
dead or distant;
shared across time
and space sometimes
the mask worn by people
in the same position
at a similar time,
dices rolling
the same result,
same face, same
troubles, the world
teetering at the edge
of an abyss, and lurching
over to a man-made
doom. The endless
return, but how pathetic
are were not breaking
the cycle, creating
new and lasting
things, even if
all the faces
are old.
22.-24.05.2025
Ei kommentteja:
Lähetä kommentti