The round edge

We all went through the flames. Shaping the annoying feelings in tiny statues in a perpetual and steady raw.  Tearing off the oily wall paper to make a crunchy ball and finally listening the whispering naked wall.

We all went through the dust. Adjusting our hair with a stroke, blowing ahead to set the path free from death, while the sponge soul is getting heavily grey and shyly imploring the body to stay.

We all went through the woods. Being harms and legs of the crowded nature doom, being guest.  Eyes seeking beyond, while feet are kissing the roots.

We all went through the sun. Pouring bitterness drops in a golden vessel till the evaporation makes its course in a peaceful silence. Buckets of air fulfill the lungs and life cells are celebrating within a prosperous flaw.

We all get to the light.

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