What we have lost

Every day is a battle I most ensure,
In solitude I whisper
In solitude I wait.

Surrounded by the darkness of the world,
the monk-soul emerges,
the sun becomes a dragon burning my skin,
the moon becomes wicked fantasies that tantalize my mind.

Waking up in the morning light,
a warrior poet emerges from dawn,
to ensure that the battle is won,
over and over again.

Condemned in the shadows of fear,
my eyes contemplate the wonderous nature of all beings,
and I sigh deeply letting the knots untie by themselves.

Submerged in symbols I search,
for a fire night to come along,
for a single moment of clarity,
for an intuition of something important,
but it has not yet come.

I see myself from up above,
inspired in this flesh and bone that contains my soul,
and I let go.

Life is a suspect in this fraud called joy,
and i wonder what it is like to let go.

To leave it all behind and go away,
to a land where freedom is the only choice.
Don't you see the chains in your arms?
Don't you see what you have left behind?
It's too late now I suppose,
but I will not give away what we have lost.
Follow me
let's fly away
and lets dream together
of another way.

Please
Come with me.