FABLES OF AN INSOMNIAC

I wonder where it all leads to ,
These meandering rivers of senseless thought .


I sometimes hear weird beats too ,
Of angels who died and demons who fought .

The insensible rage is an expanding universe ,
Anytime to collapse under a light prose or a pretty verse .

The feathers are dipped in ink but wouldn't write ,
The light is beckoning and warm but never so bright .

It is as if the mist envelopes a frozen man on the highway ,
It is as if the destiny's hand rises to say "My Way ! ".

Tears may or may not shine but smiles always fade ,
I suppose no need to outrage , it is Life's purpose and trade .

I once met an oaktree crumbling under its heavy age ,
Just beside it lay a canary in a pretty blue cage .
The sight of it never leaves my mind ...
Old age and bondage...never too hard to find .

Dreams sold and words bought ,
Make no difference if the thoughts rot.

I once met a boat sailing alone in the middle of the sea,
No boatman , no anchor , nothing that I could see .
The sight of it never leaves my mind...
Freedom and loneliness...never too hard to find.

I look at the window and imagine a green elf ,
Alas its a shadow , a non-existent itself .

I lay awake dreaming all night ,
Searching the stars that lost their might .

Alas , I have no glass-ceiling to see the sky ,
So I imagine the clouds and close my eye .