FullnessThere is no full mind touchedBy the golden of silence.There's no fulfillment, in a filled,Hasty, important, valuable mind.Does the light shine throughA nerve-thread web,Or a clever bush,Weaved, grown by the needed?Or does it radiate,When meets a brilliant prism,Whose sacrifice –The lack of blocking,The lack, ofWho-we-are in-this-world,If we not show ours –Was made to let go,Not to absorb, like black hole,Swallowing the whole,But letting it reflect,And shine brighter,Than ever before.And does the wind catchA stone surfer?Or does it lift up,Who made it lighter?Lets the force control him,Therefore he controls the force.Does the fish profitsFrom a shrimp-mud swim?Or does it prefer,When the sea has less of a density,Because he doesn't need a stockpile:Why do I build a mountain of chocolate,Way-blocking, so mighty,So hard to climb it,If I do not eat all of it?I built myself a prison,Fabricated by handrailsI used as lifesavers –Do I rea
HorizontA távolban az ég is a földre hált az utazás fáradalmaitól.
LimitsI like to push my limits.But if there are no limits, there's nothing to push
Art of the inky paperThe feeling,The earthquake in my heart,The thunder in my head,The glorious sight,Of the ink-blue silhouette.I write from feeling,I write from emotion,I write, what keepsThe heart in motion.Yeah, the paper's burning,With the blue flames of devil,That river of inkCan not extinguish.I write what I feel,There's no point hiding,The only problem I don't useA pen for writing.
Szamadas v2Adom a számat.
Forest: Chapter 1: The Ground LevelWatchThe morning spider-net of leaf-tearsWeaved by the air:Dropping it's sadnessAnd happiness,When looking atHis eternally-bound friend.Watch,The mighty backOf that so careful parentLaying,Like a wolf breast-feeding it's cubs,Selflessly givingThe treasure of his body,For the living greenTo live in green,Giving the steady hold.