It's All in the Mind
It's All in the Mind
It's all in the mind to be remembered like an ancient prayer,
Layers in time to be rediscovered like magical scrolls,
Memories are vivid colors, whether good or bad like crystals,
Like brilliant stains spread through time like the stars,
They penetrate and mark a life with the seal of crude eternity.
Stop and think, it's all in the mind as in a temple,
Hidden deep and silent, you can fall through a hole in reality,
Searching to save fragile treasures from the pockets of experience,
These live in darkness, though the pockets age into holes,
But everything remains in the mind as in a library of dreams.
The mind is a dark and disorderly closet like a cave,
To be arranged on a rainy day, only very gently and carefully,
Its corners hide the memories of a life in trust,
Interleaved with care with the days from the beginning like leaves,
All kept in the sanctuary of the mind as in a sacred museum.
I fall through the holes of reality like Alice in Wonderland,
I save fragile treasures from the depths of my unconscious,
They live in the penumbra of memory like fireflies in the forest,
Though the pockets of time wear out and become abysses,
Everything persists in the mind as in a galaxy of memories.
The mind becomes the secret archive of my existence fragments,
Where each memory is a precious relic in a display case,
Interleaved with the days like the pages of an infinite book,
From the beginning of time until the present that melts away,
It's all in the mind — the temple where the soul finds its peace.
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