Energies channeled to take on construction of sand, right there near the shore.
A brand, a name, a logo or else a category,
give me anything to be able to be someone in this world,
no matter whether illusory or painful.
The concept is to my mind like a drug that runs beneath the skin,
or like bitter water that my system strives for to slip away this ardent emptiness.
Yet, how much space up here.
I’m like a blank page that accepts any ink and then shakes it off,
I am that which is always new, clear and timeless.
The old fear seems only a den in which I’ve been for too long,
and what itches my eyes is just the fitting to light.
Forget about me, do not look for me somewhere, whether in a story or in a book,
I am burned, finished, gone and yet joyful,
I packed away the old crown of my own ego for the transparent one of the present
and if you too decide to wear it there will be no two, nor ten, nor thousand of sovreigns, but only one king,
because this truth, is like the air we breath which comes, gives new life and then thankfully it goes.
It has no needs for a compass, nor maps or souvenirs, because when it leaves it returns back to nowhere
and past the wind always echoes the silence.
Picture from: The Thoughtful Spot