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The Restless Heart…


The landscape that I saw recently asked me, “Are you happy with the boxes you dream to live in?”

And as I was floating in the deep of this surface we call life, the vehicles kept screeching over my skull saying, “We couldn’t find anyone with ears.”

Peace, such an attractive idea, hyped by the people seemingly running against it.

I heard screams few days ago…or may be today, can’t remember when the last time was. There were people talking of peace with red eyes and loud voices. It was hard to understand what they spoke, cause they couldn’t wait for their turns to arrive.

What if impatience in person, is not such an ugly soul? Might be used at an incorrect time, if it could be; or maybe solely misunderstood.

What is this? Probably, just a restless heart with thoughts burning blue; a face so calm; a core filled with ruth, as if been knocked off too many times, with effects invisible to naked eyes.

But the knock on the door of our mind is not enough,

And the blinding lights are still blind,

Where is the world half of this humanity begs for?

Or are the hearts losing its spine?

The spirit that we sing of and write all the while,

Is drying up under the sun,

If there is anything left from the beginning,

It is the end into which it turns.

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