I am locked up inside a house of solid glass;
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open to every look of the one's who pass.
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moments of fantasy trade with those of void;
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images of repose, repress the worldly toil.
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I can't tell the difference between what's real and dream.
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is this the land of riches,
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the path to our source?
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is this the only key to unlock all doors?
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or has my fantasy once again fooled me?
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will the signs I see next fail to free me?
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I can't tell the difference between what's real and dream.
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as if I awake from the deepest sleep,
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and as if the road to being seems less steep.
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these glassy walls that have surrounded me
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break and give way for a flow of energy.
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freedom I sought,
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and for which I have paid,
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strides over my strongly built barricades.
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the self I really am,
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that was once disguised,
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evolves to the fullest - starts its steady rise.
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rids the broken pieces of my shattered past.
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it overcomes the fear - weight, I've lost at last.
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now there's just space,
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endlessly new to me.
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the flash of light enables me to see,
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and my view touches horizons as serene,
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as the source of all that I have ever dreamed.
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-----------------
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The Flash
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| Eloy |
