Life as a Rat
Life as a Rat
Yes, every city is a labyrinthine cage
woven from streets seen from celestial heights,
but also – from the silken threads of your habits:
The paths you follow, or avoid,
the cafes where your presence lingers like ghosts,
the markets you cross
on your mythical journey home,
to work, to dance
under the spell of Friday night's embrace,
and the restaurants
where you might have savored delights,
if fate hadn't sealed their doors.
Oh, yes. A dozen winding roads
and fifteen hundred faceless extras
would be enough
to stage your entire
cursed life on a stage –
and yet you yearn
for a million souls
to feel painfully alone?
Ten thousand destinations
to pretend you're trapped?
Five hundred thousand
square kilometers to hide
in towers that kiss the sky,
far from the fortieth floor –
Ah, yes. A Universe,
to remind you: it exists,
just beyond the door.
And so, in the labyrinth of city lights,
where the moon whispers secrets
to cobblestone alleys,
you wander, a solitary specter,
through the mist of your own existence,
weaving dreams from the shadows
cast by neon ghosts and ancient bricks.
Each step, an unspoken symphony
of forgotten memories and future hopes,
a dance with the unseen,
a waltz with the infinite.
For in this mystical labyrinth,
where time is but a fleeting illusion,
and space is an endless canvas of possibilities,
you are both prisoner and poet,
caught in the web of your own creation,
yet always creating verses
from the stardust of your soul.
Oh, to be a rat in this cosmic playground,
to navigate the ethereal threads
of destiny and desire,
to find solace in the solitude
of a crowded universe,
and to discover, in the silence
between heartbeats,
the profound truth
that you are never truly alone.
Copyright © Dan Enache | Year Posted 2024
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