The Existence of Being

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To whom I write, or to whom I want to say it, I shout from the rooftops, I shout at my mirror that embitters my being, comes juggling full of lust and thoughts, that my shadow runs through it, My story on the path of life.


I truly wonder if we exist or are part of an algorithm, full of life, or are we merely a reflection of what once was life, dust and the existence of free love.


I only write, I sing to express in these words that are existences, that will never turn to dust, and that will be that good morning, that good night, but you have a place for the stars beyond, where thoughts and dreams never end.

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