He takes off the primal mask,
Destroys systematic bonds of slavery,
No more shallow needs,
No faked realities,
He's not burdened by meaningless humane tasks,
No leaping between humorous deeds,
First steps in deserted streets,
Mankind is still in its sleep,
Dream by dream their essence is taken away,
Cold glances at the plastic air,
Cellophane shutters and blurry thoughts all around,
No more disturbed by them he straightens his path,
No more fulfilling inhales,
And nothingness adds no taste,
Free of time and shrinking space,
Mind in its order,
And no more fear as illusions are aside,
Slaves and no gods but parasites,
Taking away not an atom from him,
He is a passing hollow,
With terminated feelings,
But all sense the power and presence,
No unnecessary words,
Obstructions all are now destroyed.

As it's softly lit,
And an inhale as a breath of life,
With sparks so free and liberal,
Towards its middle point,
Joy and discoveries to be made,
Regrets washed away,
Contemplating the outer spheres,
And many more theories,
Or is it just the town,
Hiding its simple stance,
Under the layers of rainbow,
Is it a progress or mere desperation,
Light in a gray sand,
For when it's over,
It's but trash,
Under others' footing,
With incredible tales,
Misunderstood and undeciphered