168. Lost souls in the abyss of spirituality
We found each other in the abyss of the soul,
both stuck in that black hole, the worst of all,
a bog of no escape, a swamp of wet sentimentality,
a well of feelings without any end or bottom to its darkness,
the most hopeless and incurable of prisons;
but in those black depths of utter darkness
there is that which keeps us going and alive
in different dimensions in another better world
of sensitivity, prolonged antennas, extra strange phenomena
like vertigo existence out of normal order and our bodies,
telepathic qualities and other weird stuff just for freaks,
which makes us freer, actually, in this our prison of the soul
than all those who are bound by opposite impediments,
like property, a house and car and junk and practical responsibilities
that fetter them to the most desperate of chain gangs called mortality,
which is the ignorant majority of all this miserable poor humanity.
So what have we then to complain about? As outsiders
we are completely free from this outrageous mortal coil,
and in this perfect liberty which gives us wings
we can just go on flying and forever and together.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-09-02 at 12:16
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