The nightjar flying through the darkness became a star, unbeknownst to anyone.
Across the illuminated ground below, the people travel.
This world stands upon myriad sorrows—
Flowers bloom from despair and people call that beautiful.
A wilting sunflower sits in its vase.
Will the expression on your face wilt away too?
Petals plucked at a whim
Now dance into the sandstorm
A voice rings out, saying,
“Take back everything stolen from you that day!”
In return for our acceptance of this loneliness,
The fires of our lives burn bright:
A luminous red, threatening to scorch us.
Happiness becomes something undesirable, fleeing first from those who believed.
This world is built upon their corpses.
We lie, saying, “Hurting someone is a sign of kindness”.
We declare that it’s a badge of honor. But are we seriously saying that?
The fish stranded on land drowned in oxygen.
The birds underwater choked, unable to fly…
Never knowing where they belonged.
In this moment, we stand dead still.
Somebody yells out,
“Regain the version of yourself that was wounded that day!”
Someday we’ll stand at the end of all this sorrow,
Laughing lonesomely:
A luminous red resembling the color of blood.
Fragments of writhing cells, squirming within the sea, develop.
They grow arms and legs, crawling onto land. They become monkeys, then humans.
Gods are born who watch over us all, the way people do ants.
Please, save our souls. If not, strike us with lightning!
If only those who are loved will be allowed to smile…
If we must steal before we can bestow…
Then we’ll ruthlessly trample the corpses below!
Come, laugh without a care in the world!
A voice rings out, saying,
“Take back everything stolen from you that day!”
In return for our acceptance of this loneliness,
The fires of our lives burn bright:
A luminous red, threatening to scorch us.