Faith guided

Inside a box like pigeons,

there we think the God we are,

afraid from the difference.

Chasing society’s illusions

Through the broken clock

Other blind fools we fight.

All as part of an ignorant mass

Through our dark mirror

Only the others demons we can see.

In solitude lost we are

Other souls stalking

By the use of expired bodies.

Inside the poor mess of our thoughts

Painful being is

Although greater than us there is not.

In the smirking hand of Death

Where faith guided in circle we dance

Life just passes by