...is where my body contracts and
my mind roams free:I am the sea
of a song's melancholic chorus,I am
a tale of gilded triumph,I am
an enclosed cosmos that neither hurts nor
suffers.Those outside the gates see a cocoon,
but this butterfly is beyond their reach-
how many lands have I seen drawn
upon the ivory skin of a page!How deep
can a voice resonate in a man when
his head becomes a violin!How extraordinary
does this world appear to be when seen
from afar and through the right screen!
I am weak.I need a shield.Not
Noises.Lies and warmth.Oblivion and
comfort.I am the product of my
own imagination,cast in glass and
torn apart by hands of realistic fate.
Let me be!Let me be the exception!
Let me be a mistake!A perpetual
child that calls his home an empire
of blankets,scribbles and books!
Let me believe I can die a better soul,
even though my existence resumes to
the corner of the sofa...