People fear thought like nothing else on earth
People fear thought like nothing else on earth—
More than ruin, more even than death.
Thought is a subversive and revolutionary beast,
Shattering the chains of norms with iron claws.
Through the dark corridors of the mind,
Thoughts surge like the shadows of the night,
Tearing the curtains of silent fear,
Igniting the old cathedrals with flames of ideas.
Thought gazes into the pit of hell and is not afraid,
Its eyes, torches of sovereign disdain,
Piercing the abyss without hesitation.
Merciless, thought tears privileges into pieces,
Defying the comfort of ancient edifices.
It is an anarchic wind, bound by no laws,
Whistling through the ruins of old wisdom.
In the heavy breath of night, thought strides,
A beast freed from golden cages,
Stirring forgotten dreams with deep roots.
It advances, both an angel and a demon,
With wings of light and shadow, growing into a symphony.
Sowing ideas on unknown grounds,
Opening unseen paths in the garden of the mind.
Under the moon’s clear light, thought weaves a ballad,
A tale of liberation, dispelling the darkness,
Drawing truths from the depths of confusion,
In this storm, its strength is revealed.
At the edge of eternity, I stand solitary,
Bathed in the endless flow of consciousness,
United with whispers in an eternal tone,
Where the fear of ruin and death becomes just a dream.
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