It's just a chess game.
March 31, 2018 at 2:52 am
(This post was last modified: March 31, 2018 at 2:55 am by WinterHold.)
As if it was a board; life is in itself come as a field of competition, where statues mimic certain roles, sad little objects that act as obstacles for each others' souls, not knowing that they are destroying themselves in their sad little dance for control.
The battle usually unfolds with all pieces fighting for a wish; the poor stones look like helpless midgets that were fooled into becoming copies of each other; mere clones, all dream the same dream, all fight the same desperate fight.
They think that they have a chance. That's what they were told. They lied to them and sold them a dream; that they will grow up to be Millionaires; rock stars and famous beings; as childish as it was they bought it; it was so cheap that they sought to keep, believe in and fight for, even if that standing against them was their own selves: the stone replicas; the pawns who got drunk on their own fantasy.
When it's the time for the stones to brawl; remember that these objects don't even have a soul. They are not alive. Leave the board if you can; there is no place for decent people around rocks and stone. But wait a second: who said that you, yourself, are not another stone?
A mere drunk rock ? in a dance between mad stone? a brawl for control?
M-Sunday/March/2018
The battle usually unfolds with all pieces fighting for a wish; the poor stones look like helpless midgets that were fooled into becoming copies of each other; mere clones, all dream the same dream, all fight the same desperate fight.
They think that they have a chance. That's what they were told. They lied to them and sold them a dream; that they will grow up to be Millionaires; rock stars and famous beings; as childish as it was they bought it; it was so cheap that they sought to keep, believe in and fight for, even if that standing against them was their own selves: the stone replicas; the pawns who got drunk on their own fantasy.
When it's the time for the stones to brawl; remember that these objects don't even have a soul. They are not alive. Leave the board if you can; there is no place for decent people around rocks and stone. But wait a second: who said that you, yourself, are not another stone?
A mere drunk rock ? in a dance between mad stone? a brawl for control?
M-Sunday/March/2018
