Hetsjakt

Imagination stills and improvisation dies. All thoughts stops, all emotions freezes as time seizes to exist. The moment holds on to the mind blowing explosion of all the senses screaming. People seize to move. Hate and love perishes. All is viewed, all is heard, all is smelled, all is felt, all is tasted. Bright, loud, burnt, rough, charred. It all ends, it all stops. No one complains, all is silent. No one cries, nor screams, all is silent. Everything is dark, no light ever to shine again, all is black. Limbo... Purgatory... ... The Apocalypse.

If I knew how to write. If I knew how to speak. If I knew how to draw. If I knew how to feel. I'd never let a verse go untold. I'd never let a page remain empty. If I knew how to walk. If I knew how to see. If I knew how to smile. If I knew how to laugh. I'd never stop traveling. I'd never stop being happy. If I knew how to live... I'd never doubt death... I'm the unborn optimist.