When the apocalypse comes, I will remember the days I was not allowed to be myself.
When the land will tremor, the insects inside me will crawl towards the edge of my soul.
The regrets beneath me will lay out like a web of cracks on an aged wall with no end.
When my body will be underneath the fallen ceiling, I will wail remembering the burden of my emptiness that once felt like nothingness.
When the keepers of my soul will put a name to my existence, I will designate it as "life",
And if they tell me that reincarnation is real, I will still want to be me but with a different mind,
And in any parallel world, if flowers would fall from the sky, I will want to be me but with a different heart,
And if they will tell me that life will be short, I'll be a chirping bird in the eyes of my cat.
I'll be the sound of dripping water that fascinates a little girl.
I'll be a saccharine melody in the times of war.
I'll be a moment of an autumn leaf falling onto a bed of dry leaves.
I'll be a nimbus cloud to a deserted barren land.
I'll be a book in the bag of a poor boy.
I'll be a candy in the hands of a child,
I'll be the essence of lilies to a pleasing garden.
I'll be a beam of revolt to a captured slave.
I'll be a proud smile on a martyr's mother.
I'll be the infinite possibilities of incarnation after the apocalypse.

People, people everywhere, but
No life I enjoy.
Disinterest feigns my heartbeat,
Where is my joy?

What I feel is nothing,
No sorrow, no happiness,
No fear, no comfort,
Yet I smile and let it phase ,
Into an emotionless state.

A nobody with no desire,
I have tiny aspirations,
To keep me abode this plane,
Floating in existential dreams,
I wake myself up again.

To tread this life's path,
I think I wasn't chosen,
Or perhaps I chose to be,
To quell this tug and pull,
Of cosmic threads that hold me.

What I feel, I think not.
I think not, what I know.
I know not, a single speck.
Yet, I carefully maneuver,
For what I know, may not be.

You've had this thought before
The flowers on the window sill
The distant sound of a radio
The streets
The grass
The stars

The sky's dome above your head
Everything is normal on Earth
Exactly as it is now
Look up at the sky
God is in his heaven
God is in his heaven
A god who's very very silent

Home awaits
A beautiful serene place
Of mystery
And peace
The one thing you will never find again
All the love and patience of your friends
The tenderness you feel

You no longer live there
Those times are gone
And so are those people
Why did you come here?
Why are you still here?
You don't know

The freedom of finality
That's all you have now
The great see-through world
All things bright
Only you remain
You against the nothingness

It's not fire
It's not ash
Everything is calm
You can only sense the shape of it
A pit opening up in your stomach
A blank space
With no point of reference
Something that has always been there
A new reality
Barely out of sight
Where only one type of motion is possible
The motion of a human throat swallowing
A throat into which the world will vanish

What strange words to celebrate a new world

No cities
No oceans
No mountains

You can breathe now

And finally

In shadows cast, I stand, my heart feels sore,
Not beautiful, but "cute," at best, they implore.
Love's worth, in men's eyes, I can't seem to find,
Reduced to an object, desire defined.

A foolish dream, I once held in my heart,
To be loved, cherished, a meaningful part.
Yet, my hope, now crushed, I can't ignore,
As I see myself, just a piece to explore.

In this darkness, I resign my fate,
A piece of meat, to be hunted, innate.
Devoured by men's hunger, I now see,
In this harsh reality, my soul's decree.