SHADOWS OF HIDDEN HUMANITY

SHADOWS OF HIDDEN HUMANITY

A Poem by Tasi83








 Existence is ruling me more and more harshly, with its wolf-laws; through the labyrinthine mazes of lacks, I would still try to preserve my solitude in envelope-silence. The mill of Livability is still sifting, grinding, while stubborn death, like a prisoner, unexpectedly greets each victim. I must walk on the sacred paths of uncertain swamps, if I want the illusion of completion to float before my mental eyes; the mountain peaks of decades no longer comfort me - but oppress me with their misery of peculiarities.

 No earthly copy of my movements is ever visible, because I should hide among people, who sooner or later turn out to be traitors to themselves. - Out there, more and more vile people with a merchant faith are bustling and pushing, producing useful profit figures only for themselves. Among the predatory night noises, only so many thieves-magpies, disguised ravens can be silent companions. 

My petty human-smelling mistakes, which have formed into conscious systems, perhaps belong to me just as much as a fly on flypaper; Being slowly melts away from the DNA jelly of the body. It would be good to preserve the immortal loves of the Universe in the cosmos-state of conscious weightlessness, like the dying comet-stars of the Soul, because now so many success and sensation-hungry merchants, fortune-hunters, trouble-making minute-human celebrity-influencers show themselves to be endless errors. It would be better to finally break away from the spiral blind tracks of unachievable commercial desires, even if still dispassionately on the threshold of the third millennium, about which no one can yet guess whether it can remain properly human-shaped?!

 It is a blinding slander that now deliberately hides everything from the average person; there is no one to ask for advice or help, because everyone only hopes for profit and even more easily obtainable, tinkling Judas gold. There has been an increasing number of vile, two-faced, meaningless sermons spread by thieves. One cannot believe that they can measure up to humanity here today.

© 2025 Tasi83


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

25 Views
Added on December 1, 2025
Last Updated on December 1, 2025

Author

Tasi83
Tasi83

Budapest, Budapest, Hungary



About
I was born on November 30, 1983 in Budapest! I studied Hungarian history at ELTE-TFK, BTK; history teacher. I'm editing ebooks! So far, I have published my volumes on Publió and Publishdrive as.. more..