The carousel
The carousel
It rotates in a circle, life as a carousel:
often slow, often too fast! Yesterday I
thought I had found a way
today I know he was once earmarked as
fantasy or inevitability,
It is quite clear, the basis does not change with time.
could tell by the slow days,
it could never again expect to choose
whether right or wrong, I was only one important
movement and not lethargic!
Why is the question of the beginning, the end.
As the carousel began to turn it back faster,
it was the sense of a blur to me again
or the senses, who knows so precisely
felt at home, surfing on a wave.
The lights they flashed as signals in neurons,
flight, rapid, quick, furious, concrete. Or
beguiling, love as a drug,
people or things, what does it matter?
could not avert the circle,
do not even know if the level changes since.
Began again defile my brain with questions
and thought, this feeling is for never running out?
was in my brain it is not the violin,
tempted with the sweet melodies, the more bass,
with his marbles, his strength,
creates a force, the discomfort.
it created discomfort, that was the beginning, because if
circulate something, then it turns itself
and what we think might be logically appear
was only a mirage, the library, which denies us the goal again.
the end it remains to be seen and we can only hope
that is the way of life, not the orbit
to turn on the carousel can
his rounds and we remain on it until the last day.
© Christian Ziegler
0 comments:
Post a Comment