Monochromatic Stains

against the life was the walls of my living,
too much high for me to see the other side of it
so I've made a life behind these walls of eternity
from the pieces that I've found from the broken pieces of the past
all to create...
a roof to be safe under,
a home to turn back in
a memo to write over it,
a coffin to rest again inside
and to leave there all and all over again to...
to go out and to see the violence,
to go out and to be a homeless
to leave there and to witness the cold,
to leave there and to break again

   against the fair was the fate of my being,
too much far for me to reach the other ones
so I've made an empty frame and hanged it on my wall
having and showing no one's portrait and nowhere's view on it to look
all could be...
a blank frame to look and dream,
a sorrowful landscape to lay down
a never-existed mean of joy to have,
a cold meadow of silence to scream
and to rise from my lair all and all over again to...
to go somewhere else and to seek the one,
to go to another place and to be lost
to find and to be with forever, to have and to die for after
for so many years that I've lost
the first and the last standing home
the home which was the inside of me
the frame which was the soul that I've had
with not knowing that...
that all the life was against me
with no place to be in, with having no one by my side
with having no pictures to complete, with no air to breathe
with no reason to keep on going,
with no fate but falling
 




all and all over again...