THE ANCHORS OF THE EARTH

 The carefree days could never have existed; the everyday worries of today chain the average person like earthly anchors; joy-tide only according to necessity, if it still exists. Because one day everyone will begin their wandering in the invisible Universe, even if during their earthly life prison walls guarded their footprints with greedy eyes, the massive, somewhat grotesque mirror of rebellions is unnecessary to break, since it faithfully shows the distorted provisions of our present. In the Soul, a lost bird sighs and laughs almost constantly. 

The ulcerous darkness that seems to congeal also flattens in the depths of the soul's cave, just like the past accused of extravagance. Why must a person meet anyone at every moment as if he were a swaying, drifting shipwreck, which is being deliberately towed towards uncertain shores?! He already dreams his life unnoticed; because in the end he remains rather the last, but still a Man who is still alive, he is pulled to and fro by ominous fate like a puppet in a net. Not only uninvited visitors sneer at him with native smiles. 

The years are gaunt crypt faces, they hook the plank fence slats onto their wrinkles, between weekdays and holidays a cursed appearance-hope echoes clearly. Because now he is still imprisoned inside, like a condemned convict, the roar, because the physics of stubborn inertia is still keeping him awake a little. 

The city of Nineveh is a lazy, sluggish, immovable burden, which is dragged down by its own Sisyphusian weights into ever deeper swamplands. All that would remain would be exaggerated illusions, like false appearances fabricated by the manufacturers of lies, from which the desire for belonging has long since disappeared. When will brainwashed people shed their hardened chitin armor?!