Be still until emotions stops to spin
then start to move with courage
to your free will.

Drastically, without expectation
as the witnessed serum of truth
reverses the steps of contemplation
the thought lags
emotions float in the garbage’s memory
a witness holds a thought about the transience of life
one we pass by, one you, one I
weak night lights its candle in a song
hold me back
for life
left
in a track
you can find me at times.

You let the darkest aspect of you

lead to maturity

you became your own master

fed your physical heart with compassion

and warmth

and thanks

and growth.

In a hide it is glimpsed
like inners inside prisons
a thread that spins the story
is a path
that always finds you.

If I were a consciousness
it would be shared with you
a day when the shadow stubbornly follow along
in the steps of the wild
it was never written as a saga
more like a bare description
you wanted, you would
in freedom create
one step at a time
of your own will.

A second later
the story was shown as the shadow of its bygone beauty
nevertheless
the hidden is awakened in its forgotten form
in the porridge, from a scent
time stops, still.