An Ambitious Zombie

For a fresh breath It's time to erase memories Memories of love and care Memories of the sun and the moon Memories of the universe around And all that's left is a void Ready to swallow us all The darkness of the closed eyes The monotony of the infinite universe Maybe just the imagination of a vile mind Or the reality of a faded soul Or the dream of a broken heart It will all vanish one day The writer's words and the written thoughts Only the echoes will remain Taking a road never taken Into the unknown origins of the lost worlds Into the silent roarings of the trapped souls Into the circled time bounded by the timeless clocks And that's how the memories will rebuild A writer peeping into the smoking void Looking for a fresh breath, scribbling “Probably, it is time to erase memories”

Where can we roam to discover our ‘selves’? From a bird’s view To see ‘I” with another’s eye The eyes that can judge the lost kid Trying too hard to be remembered In search of a unique philosophy To stand out but only as a bubble The bubble in which he sleeps Dreaming of a great debate Between life and death Between God and Man Wakes up stuck in chains In a century gone wrong A generation divided Along darker invisible lines He looks up at the sky A blue mirror with the face Resembling the lost kid stuck in chains Still dreaming of a great debate He realizes it's all the same, The judge, the jury and the judgment No honesty in the absolute truth No shame in the comforting lie And then he concludes With everyone watching the same view There is no point To see ‘I’ with another’s eye

“Why do we go through it all over again? I don't want to hurt you, I don't intend to hurt you. But what is this complexity, this weird energy between us that the only emotion that comes out is anger?” He said to her while sitting on the floor with his veins popping out as if it were no longer part of his body. The entire room, suffocating at the same scenery painted for it every day, had stopped reacting. The idols, who had long forgotten the meaning of their presence, had st opped reacting. The night, which witnessed this shimmering darkness every day, had stopped reacting. But most importantly, she had stopped reacting. The next day, he woke up beside her, she made him breakfast, he kissed her goodbye and walked past the photo of him and her smiling - 'a memory', it said. He rushed to the office, crafted a banner and then joined the protest downstairs. The banner said, “Real men protect their women, they don’t abuse them”.