You cry
and you ask then
(always) why,
you hold the ignorance
just that bit,
up to the point
it confirms or destroys.
So the images in mind
weaves a story,
a story called
my life
asking for peace
for harmony.
The sun asked
for a blanket
it was growing cold
so it thought so
and cried.
had "it" known
Existence exists and is
free from all realities
of mind-soul-visions
this sun would
never ever
want to
work in a mirage.
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