In still manifestation a dreamer wakes.

Finds the water blank as he forgot how to taste.

Walks the side
looking straight faces
that unface him
on struggled demand of attention.

Who he will be?

Not knowing if there is a falling ground
or, capable of doing harm
be hidden by perfect masks.

Naked as an impossibility
of civilized countries
and nations.

The iron cloud
where to watch
and unarmed
be king of it all
for not even being born.

Take the scars as sweet sharp spikes
that aways who nothing has to give
and seduces the ones dying for it.

So much races inside one species
and so much beauty hidden
behind chained gates of fear and hate.

To walk upon here
is to be sincere.

The borders of one's fear
is the freedom of one's touch.