From The Small to The Bigger One

  It was on a distant ocean that clouds were formed,
entities of such secretism, joined together by some tears and a dream,
they float away from the womb of Mother Nature,
following the winds, looking for a chance to redeem

themselves, as the Earth can´t survive without them,
nor either the trees, who waits and wishes for their tears,
because from them Life can proceed, grow and drink,
and so the humans shall then smile and think,

think about their size, compared to this long-lasting Entity,
used to be bigger than any other entity, they soon stop,
realizing then that it's not because of them that Life exists,
but because of these newborn clouds that Life still persists.

My Steps

It was set in motion the fatality of the existence
for there was no way to go further nor back
so there´s only the chance to move for none
forgetting the steps done one by one,

because the existence itself is ment to be
equal to the eyes of the beholder,
owner of its fate, it walks over the reason
constantly looking back, afraid of treason,

and then the true fact reveals itself,
that no men nor being is left untouched,
because its not the choice that matters, instead
 it matters only the unknown future that lies ahead.

The Puppet

There goes in doubt the subject of existence

coming out of the closet as a friend to play

but be aware when building castles of wisdom

as not even the wisdom has come to stay,

so be prepared to the events that unfold,

boiling into the unknow, they told

to the wise man who did knew everything,

that not even him wise man had anything to bring,

to this society, thirsty of knowledge and progress,

lacking for principles, doomed for the abyss,

because its not the wisdom that saves those in distress,

but only the pure hearth worthy to be blessed.

Washing Machine of Humanity

The button opens the door for the cleaning

Powered by the energy of the few, it starts,

Rumbling and twisting the dirt on their spirits, 

as it goes through the time, such action marks,

The beauty of the Thing, the action,

Itself folded on lies and mischief,

Cause there is no soap for the reaction,

to tear apart the anger and the grief,

And there goes the cycle, pure and systemic,

as there is no energy enough for it to change,

so it is not the fate that sentenced it to death,

but only the will that didn´t came this far to strange.