The Room inside the Mind

The man sat in an empty room,

Listening to the distant rain.
The room was overwhelmingly dark.
And in this darkness was a light.
A dreary form of the rising sun.
And death took over the mans mind.

The man saw darkness in his mind.

He did not see outside or in his room.
He saw the day without a sun.
He saw the storm without the rain.
But he didnt see the light.
Instead he saw an endless dark.

But he knew the things existed in the dark.

He knew that it was an illusion of his mind.
He knew that in a corner was a light.
He knew that there were things outside and in his room.
The ceaseless rain,
The shining sun.

His thoughts completely blocked the sun,

Enveloped in his chosen dark.
But he could hear the ceaseless rain.
He could hear things in his mind,
Telling him there was a room
That had in it a light.

But suddenly the room lost the light.

The rainclouds hid the sun.
The man lost the things that were outside and in his room.
All was lost in the creeping dark.
And he stopped hearing voices in his mind.
And ceased the ceaseless noises of the rain.

In their stead, came the visions of the rain,

As well as the brightness of the light.
The man began seeing visions in his mind.
Brighter than the memories of the sun.
And he forgot the endless dark.
For the first time, the man laid down in his empty room.

Through the rooms window, the man saw the rain.

And once again the dark engulfed the light.
And finally the sun set along with his mind.
 The Unneeded Tree

In Edens garden stood a little tree.

It stood alone and lonely outside.
It grew until its fruit was ripe.
It stood, waiting for someone.
After years of waiting
A snake slithered by
But did not eat.
And now the
Tree was
Big
And
Ancient,
Waiting for
Someone to eat.
No one came to eat
Its dead and ugly fruit.
And it starts to rot away.
Years passed, it slowly turned to ash.
Till the seeds were the only ones left,
Alone to experience the same fate.
 The Endless Walk

The river continues flowing.

The blinding sun breaks the horizon.
The ground continues to move beneath my feet.
Walking an endless walk,
I am
Thinking that
Life is meaningless.
Everyone believes that
Life is meaningful.
And that
I should enjoy life.
But I believe that
People who enjoy life are too optimistic.
They think that
Life is precious because it is finite.
I think that
Since we all know the outcome, life is pointless.
They say that
Life is always flowing like a river.
I say that
Life is like a lake that is slowly drying out.
Ends the endless walk

the Dead talk more than the Living

The graves are talking to a man

With their shrill voices of the dead.
Discussing their lives and their plans,
Not knowing that they were abed.

And soon the man will be like them,

Forgetting that his thread was cut,
That he was stuck inside this realm,
And that his doors of life were shut.
 The Decisive Crossroads

When at a crossroads stands a man, alone,

What does he think of, in the endless dark?
Perhaps he should turn back and come back home,
He thinks, but is not ready to debark.

It was as if the man was tightly tied

Onto the mast of a forsaken ship.
Which was controlled by the remaining tide.
On to the speeding ship he had no grip.

He hears some voices, coming from the side.

But then he hears a quiet voice his own.
His mind, confused, starts losing to the tide
And he forfeits his minds unconscious throne.

Until the voices ringing in his head

Become so strong, they stain his hand in red.

- Maksym Ptakh