The broken bridge
It feels like a hazy fragile bridge made of wreck. The passerby can’t resist the fear of loss and despair, though armed with strong delirious weapons of resistance. Here the sense of existence is overwhelmed by a sort of a peculiar sensation never been experienced by the lay who care only about living under a safe shelter that protect one from the willing coming arrows of a ferocious warrior of time. The side bars are made of ash stitched from time to time by the sharp blow of breeze that tends to give much more time for thinking before total destruction. You see me there on the other extreme standing emotionlessly thinking about whether to go for it or just never trust the breeze that may turn into a storm and therefore ruin my destiny.
I chose to go. I knew it was very risky and fearful but I head for it giving no damn attention to what may happen later. I get on the boat of time and find myself in the midst of attention. I was fake but who cares nowadays about who you are. People are more in interested in what you have and what you wear. After a short time I got off the boat and swore to myself never to take it again. I decided from that time on to get to the other extreme no matter what the consequences were. I began to walk in a normal way trying not to be limp, the actual person I must be.
The road was so gloomy and difficult but I keep smiling to the time and to the folks. They smiled back to me but all I can infer is mere hypocrisy. I know I am partially not accepted in the domain but with the effective disguise I put upon, my flesh and soul life seems easy to me, sometimes even happy moments emerge out from the crumbling situation, giving me an atmosphere of false joy, yet fills my heart with wholeness and harmony with the angels of time.
I got packed with innate nobility, love and respect. Besides I got fueled with some artificial lies and hatred. This made me the loveable person everyone wants me to be. This made me whole in the eyes of other but a dwarf in the eyes of the beholder. My world is complete complexion of twisted thought, unseen by the other but felt by the wise who can read the eyes and test the authenticity of the mind. Being so, made me a new person out of the real.
The broken bridge