By Kriselda Kaçupaj
We are falling and we can not always get back up,
(Amazing the view of the moon!)
We lean our head upon a pillow of thoughts
and close our eyes in front of the truth that is screaming.
We search for happiness in the bottom of the glass,
in digits, letters,
in the lust we call love,
we breathe and we say that we live.
We smoke cigarettes, cut our veins,
exhale clouds, and leak rivers,
dying in the labyrinth we created,
and it doesn’t exist the thread of Ariadne that can save us.
We search for condolence ,lack confidence,
thirsty to take another picture,
so the world will show us our reflection,
How did we fall in such a deep darkness?
Inside expensive studios,
Sitting beside our closest friends,
We hope we will find the thread,
And the Minotaur slowly devouring us.
Is there a god that can save us?
Thousands of year that we create thousands of gods,
Hoping that one will save our soul,
Blindingly following the past generations,
Blindingly following our past selves.
Alone and like leaves that the wind rocks while they fall into the ground,
I know…we have different idea of who we are,
And the wind rocks us while we fall,
Believe me…we are just falling leaves.
I can feel the fall, and I can feel the loneliness,
And the fall is so gentle, and loneliness so inevitable,
Loneliness like in a world where everybody shuts their eyes,
But you refuse to die…
…all the same I am dying,
And death is so sweet,
Because everything is better
Than decaying while alive.