Notions xploding

Fatigue without a battle

soldiers for the no-man’s land

and a flag that says

We are all migrants

on a spinning planet

A turn of a tide

or a sheet of paper

and all will be gone

in the wind of some change

that blows the pipe of our notions

just for the fun of seeing

our unrecognized mis

understandings xplode

Got it?

Thought so

Never blind but senseless

in the ever seeing darkness

we stumble through nothing

From the hammering

caress of a doubt like a cloud

on the frown of a sincere mind

we rise into a dawn of questionings

Am I dreaming a mare called reality?

Or is this just a pessimist partiality?

And why is the simple breath so much brighter?

The quality of any answer

is not to be judged