Out of the horizon’s den
Here gapes again the two-way road
Where right and wrong converge.
Walking through it is obligatory.
Only the strong
Who dare to pass through it!
Yet, the white-livered may also
Sneak to finish it
Immaculately!
The day and the night,
The sun and the stars
Rise at the same moment.
They appear joining hands
And bold when
Menacing and promising.
Enjoyment is the expected result.
Yet, destruction is the sole reward
In the game of no choices
That ends up by daring voices.

Raise your head up,
Then look at your feet;
The captain is sailing up
Towards the pirates’ fleet.
Your place has been booked
With the pirates,
And the captain,
And the dead.
Now raise your head.
No way! You would do it
Whether beheaded
Or lying on your bed.

Open the book of shadows
And read what is written.
Behold,
pages are umbra,
others panumbra,
and all end in darkness.
Scared?
Shout as loud as you may
But nobody will hear you.
Angry?
This is the goal,
For which you’re born.  
Thus, pursue it.

Your ears are deaf,
Your eyes are seared,
Your limbs hardly obey you.
Poor you!
Poor you!
Your soul has never been there!

Do you know who you are now?
You are a mere shadow
Of some being in a mirror.
Indeed, you look alike
And have the same moves.
No one may touch the other,
Though you both think that
you’re you are tangible!
Know that you can neither be in contact
Nor separate.
Your gazes will always meet
In the lands of the desperate.
Each one of you
Is ditched in a groove
Where you’re chained
With shadows
and
haunted with unexplained existence.

Hail the nature
that gives, takes and prevents.
Her rages are the bells
she violently tolls
to remind all
that she owes us thanking.

I am the one
who rules, and punishes, and bestows charity.
Yet, I am still that homeless
Who was violently kicked away
To be deprived of eternity.

I lived thousand years
waiting for my kingdom to be built.
But I only reaped the tears
I shed while witnessing its destruction
into sand.

One frail life
and thousand deaths
in which
victory was a vice
that stifles breath.
Go ye thither and
sway thy fate
to slate depression
and shrug despair yonder
so as to start
a real risky debate.