In the pitch black of night
Lights shine bright
Keeping the boogey man
In the corners
Where no one will see him.
One brave soul, though
Braces the unknown
Running through the dark alleys
In search of the scary demons of the night.
He lights fires in the endless sea
Of aimlessy floating things,
To see, in relief, that
Nothing was ever there.
That the boogey man in our dreams
Never left our mind to
Become the monster we
Imagine in the dark.

The Passions are not gone away,
But they are a bit sleepy now.
I am so tired
That I prefer Quiet to Joy,
And Calm to Enthusiasm.
I am not detached,
I  just have to be on my own
For some time.
Love has to lessen its intensity,
And so does Friendship.

I think I'll go on a holiday
From Reason and Theory:
Plain Common Sense
Is a good friend of yours,
Don't you know?
Empathy!
Better turn you off too,
For some time,
Some very long time
Of quiet On-my-ownness.

Language is tricky
When you become too serious
About what words mean.
Thoughts are like tiny fishes:
They flow aimlessy
And not everything
Has to be picked up.
Introspection is cool,
But Spontaneity makes
The world go round.

And you know what?
I am just satisfied
With my life
In low-cal version.
This is not
An appeal to moderation,
Nor an eulogy of apathy.
I am just saying
That happiness
Is a much softer pleasure
Than outbursts of joy
And hedonistic delight.

So sleep the passions of my life,
Calmly and softly.
And I watch them in awe.
Everything is so good,
When the Passions
Are not Gone away.
But they sleep so well.