Original Poetry: With No Window To Look Out Of My Soul

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Ah, how mysteriously the hours of the day flow so passionately
And the light descend so serenely, and lustfully on every-thing
The fate of a numberless nights - dreams never dreamt noisely
From the lift of time's fall to the bustle of evening and morning

In these situations when I am all alone, with so many feelings
Everything's as empty as fetching a basket of water from a sea
Drunkenness illuminates from the lowest depths of my being
And the mystery of the universe appears clear, as a conspiracy

I close eyes and immediately I find myself in the keep of death
Illusion reaching down my throat and spirit with it's fingertips
I dream a recumbent dream - ploughing beneath like a sheath
This metaphysical systems of faraway, that upon my soul drips

The glory of a mountain is only known if you have seen a valley
And stumbling over an obstacle is the only way we can stand fit
My whole life is one unending downpour of rain sad and lonely
The wind too causes me anxiety, I can't carry self like a bucket

I always think, if I can not envision beyond the stars, the moon
And every other thing of dull insignificance and blurry purpose
Tasting the anguish of happy people - dark hearts in the noon
I am wounded by such banalities, like the thorn upon the rose

With no window to look out of my soul, I'm forced to be home
Observations and the door of thought closing like dark clouds
Every exhausted moment crumbling like the coliseum of Rome
I surrender to the world, confused why I can't fly like the birds.