The Transitional Plunge

The house does not hide Crying out in different ways Shards fly with wings of their own I see the world outside At the end of the dimly lit corridor There are 10 doors to my left 10 doors to my right They command me to enter Lights flicker animatedly My eyes move furtively The soles grow watery Mad wind in my hair Nerves in the opaque mind The distance is far and narrow Banshees in the cobwebs scream The feet move… gathering pace The doors become giants Strangling the body slowly The mind is with the soul Freedom grows bigger The distance has narrowed Transforming into ether Escaping through the corners Then the plunge into the wave Dissolving of extremities The loss … therefore, the peace No reason to think anymore The lifting up of arms And the soaring of spirit Till the end of freedom The end… It never shall come…