I'm doomed to this life of white walls
and blinding neon lights .
Like a whale turning in the lost souls aquarium.
The silent ghosts walk the corridor .
waiting for a dream ,giving them the time...
I am a relative particle in this bipolar theory
that travels to reach the beginning ...
Memories in the corridor dimension
that leads nowhere and ever ..
And god saw it was good .
Shadows never cross,
each has its own momentum
along the corridor ...
It'a allowed to pays games
that have no rules
with the program !
If you win you'll hear a voice
but no one can defeat the program
that's inside you ...
I'm condemned to purify myself at life.
There are plants in the corridor .
and they don't complain ...
God said '' Let it be ! ''
And cyborgs praise the lord !
Before the chosen one was born
they came looking for me
and the system deported me to mars .
where I must atone ...
You're always guilty of your innocence.
innocents must be cared for !
Maybe ,somewhere in a folded time
I'll find a body in an old photo
and return to rest in green meadows ..
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 19th, 2025 10:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Sealgair
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Comments3
The treat of future and the hope to lye in green meadows. Here is the clash of present day and its stress and the past which at least in the mind is a peaceful place. A thought provoking write Lorez
Sometime I like to express my sweet madness !
I like this combination of cyberpunk and philosophy.
Praised be our brothers the cyborgs !
The imagery in your poem gives birth to a powerful visual, like footage from a philosophical sci-fi movie. I'm impressed.
I sometime have strange visions of places inside me ...
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