we fall, we run, we chase, we hide
make plans and make believes
we force our roots to ignore the cycles of decay
we fill our bodies with rush and dismay
we love and we are ready to die all
the symbolic deaths that ignore the traffic lights
just to just to just to just to
avoid the unbearable pain of being alive

decades of seeming slavery
of a kind of half-living state
bowed down with demands
being fully alive out of reach
I carried the secret of myself
my true-self, longing escape
to go commune with nature.

I do envy the ocean.
They call its darkest parts
mysterious,
not ugly.