All the dreams of mankind
Anguish and death. When the horizon is clouded , one has to walk in the tormented world, agitated by convulsions. One has to accept fate, one has to free it’s mind , through poison or sweet jam. One has to risk to lose his flag, and to heighten the banner of despair. No more of peace, that destroys the will and makes us obedient. For the longest of time, he obeyed to anything, like a lost child stolen from the womb of his mother that shouts in the sudden cold air that invades his lungs for the first time. Solitude, as sung by Dominic Purcell. Drought is gone, and the lives go on, and the lack of serenity makes him toss and turn in his bed. Prayers , useless. If only they knew how much of hell there is on earth, and how much of paradise there is too. And the choice is arbitrary, we don’t choose our country, nor our parents, and heavied with stones on the back, we have to climb to the highest point of the hill, to look at the view, before going back to the catacombs to sleep peacefully in our tomb. But , his heart cries. He knows, deep inside, that there must more to life than this. Ecstasy. It tells us of a beautiful and enchanted world in which we can build our lives, nestled in a tree, near a sweet source of water. Birds singing, and women covered with silk walking nearby to feed their infants, and music, and drinks and good food, and nice company, that’s what lacks the most. When he was born, he was told to conform and live a sad life of duty, a notion that he never understood. Obligations, and dullness, when his soul is so bright, and so, alive. Inferno. Paradise. The constant battling, and lightness and songs and happiness. In his dungeon though, in which he was locked up from a young age, he can see the world, all too well, o yes.
All rights reserved.2018.