When the farce of the known reality
When that realization
Slowly infiltrates in the bone marrow of our own quantum existence
To us life ends
Life as we have known shall never come back.
Struggle then has a different aim
It’s goal is merely subjective
To touch the heights of success.
Struggle then has the individual as purpose
Without pointing to an object
Without reaching stars
To the peeling of our own skin
To turn into butterflies.
Will it take
Is the pain only the bravest to overcome make…