Name, you are chasing and chased by
You, do you really matter?
What if you don’t exist?
What if you’re a funny fiction;
Invented by a few, fallen from spontaneity?
Your fictitious glory is taken for granted
As if, you are the beginning and the end
You, the first and the final dogma
The weaver of the life-stories
The gene of romance and tragedy
You, the fulcrum of human power
The traces of memories
Whose erasure is truly a liberation
From the burdening flashes of thy presence!
Yet, you are blooming
In an Age of Reason and Anxiety!
๐ค๐๐ป
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