One or two centuries left, he said
No reason to fight, only happiness left
As compass for us to steer the ship
While waves throw it sideways and rushing to hit
The cliffs and the rocks way ahead of its course
Colliding with iceberg with no time to stop
To bother about superficial things,
About new car, a new bag, a new ring,
New something that proves everyone how we cling
To the image of us as succeeding in life
Masking deep pain that is burning inside
The pain of being lost in the vast sea of might
What might be the purpose
What might be the goal
What might have I felt
If it wasn't for all
For all of us carrying too much of the weight
Of the gilt forcing nature to pay our toll
While being extracted, abused, and converted
Into the trash of old memories piling, forgotten...
Let it all burn and enjoy what is left
Of your precious life force
As it steers to death.

Dance. Don't watch your feet,
Just dance, and feel the beat
Just feel the music as it flows
Just let it pass through you as it roars
Turn up the volume, let it loud
Accept the rhythm, get it out
Out of your system, don't stay quiet
And even if they try to keep it down
Plug in another speaker and be proud
Of how you feel the music moving
Your body to the sounds of truly
Something remarkable, get to it
Respect creator and creation
Of dance of life that is lived fully.

Curated. Generated. All connected
We're striving for the life that is perfected
Where our looks and words are being corrected
By strangers who we let define
Our inner worth, as if we are defective
Where our thoughts stay locked inside
In depths of our soul until reflected
In our inner monologue of how and why
We let ourselves to be projected
As versions to the world, leaving behind
What makes us different, unique, affected
By our own experiences of life that add to
The complexity of character we force to
Embrace the hugs of loneliness. Protected
From scrutiny of judgments but rejected
Our own voice saying love is not to be neglected.

Aware. Be present. Live now. As they say
The time only gives you few moments of play
Tomorrow is tomorrow, yesterday happened
Future is unknown, yet we build mental patterns
Of building the walls that don’t yet exist
And bang our heads against heavy bricks
Fall down from the ladder that’s too long to climb
And drown in the sorrow of meaningless grind
Bringing the vision of future misfortunes
To torture us now assuming it’s worth it
It’s worth our breath to imagine the wrongs
Prepare ourselves for all the unknowns
What if and what if, never ending construction
Of worlds with no sun shining through the obstructions
We close ourselves to the moments of joy
That we can experience now. We can grow
A beautiful garden of colors and smells
And just take a pause, be aware, be well.

Oh how beautiful the light
Shines through the cloud-covered ceilings
Highlighting history of might
Of what has been and what is being
What is it like when might of art
Surrounds you with tightening hug
What is it like when being lost
On streets of cobblestones is to be found
Letting creative forces shape
Artistic vision that surrounds
And fills the lungs up to the bream
With love of being a human being
When smell of coffee and croissants
Soothes the soul with warm idea
That here like nowhere else
You can be no one but yourself
How wonderful is that, my dear.