one i’d declare i’m no phantom
albeit two, what i got today are phantoms
all the phantoms, in fact, in different spirits:
phantom: the delusion of peace and happiness
phantom: the illusion of you and i in sweet madness
phantom: the hallucination of mad prophets,
we never know phantoms can be so over-explicit

it’s like we can see but which also cannot be seen
as in our faces if not in reflection or an image,
as in peace we can imagine
in spring while our lives are stuck
in those heavy showers of june, ceaselessly
but we can see in other people the spring
while we surrender lifelessly to our bloody destiny

as if it has been etched on stone
we don’t live but survive
we don’t celebrate but mourn
we don’t reach but arrive
in this corner of the world, in nothingness
in this society of animals so listless,
the horizon is consumed in darkness



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